Number One Priority
by httydfan1991
Summary: In the Pataki household, Helga is used to being ignored. But after coming down with the flu a few weeks before Christmas, Helga finds herself in a situation completely opposite to what's she's used too, courtesy of a certain Shortman family, where she gets a taste of what it's like to be the priority for once. Takes place after TJM. First Hey Arnold fanfic!
1. Unwell

_Hi everyone! Ok, so, this is my first time writing for Hey Arnold as I usually write for the How To Train Your Dragon fandom, but after the long awaited (and completely awesome!) The Jungle Movie, but after I read a few other fanfictions with a similar idea, I got this idea stuck in my head about what would happen if Helga got sick and was actually taken care of like she mattered for once and the idea just wouldn't leave, so I decided to have a go at it._

 _Ok, so this story is a 5 parter and it is almost completely in Helga's perspective as she comes down with a nasty case of flu and after not wanting to be at home (if you call the Beeper Emporium home the poor girl) while sick to just be ignored, she's thrilled to have Arnold suggest his parents look after her. This story is set a few weeks before Christmas, so it's roughly 3 months after where the Jungle Movie ended, so Helga and Arnold have had some time to settle in to their relationship, sort of, and had time to adjust and everything. I tried my best to keep everyone in character as much as possible and I hope I achieved it. Characterisation is usually one of the things I pride myself in, but Helga is very complex compared to my regular fandom's characters so it was a little bit trickier than normal. Her inner monologue especially was difficult for me as I am in no way poetic, so it's very basic._

 _Also, if there are any inconsistences or something with temperature in this chapter, just be aware that I am from Australia where we use Celsius, so I had to use a google converter and I hope it got it right. Same goes for anything else I had to research because apparently America has different medicines to us too. Go figure._

 _Also, if you have returned to this story after reading it the first time, or even starting it for the first time, please note that while I previously used the Australian spelling of mom which was 'mum', I have now gone and changed it to the proper American spelling. I finally clicked to the reason no one in my previous stories in the httyd fandom were bothered by the spelling was because in httyd, the characters are Vikings, so it didn't matter. I apologise for the spelling confusion._

 _Hope you like it!_

* * *

Number One Priority

* * *

Helga knew she was in for a rough time as soon as she woke up.

With her alarm clock blaring in her ears beside her, the eleven year old struggled to open her heavy eyes, and with a slight groan, managed to crack open one blurry eye, only to become suddenly aware of the pounding in her head. She groaned.

"Alright already, I hear ya! Shut up!" she snapped, leaning over to bang her hand against the wailing noise, only to have the sudden movement reverberate through her aching body.

"Urgh," the ten year old groaned, falling back against the pillows. "What hit me?"

Resting her arm over her weary eyes, Helga gave a slight start at how warm her head felt. No, scratch that; it was _boiling_. A significant amount of heat radiated off her skin as she rested her arm across her forehead. And it wasn't just her head, she noticed. Her throat, too, felt like a red hot poker iron was being shoved down her throat, along with a hundred pieces of glass every time the young girl swallowed. Great. She was sick.

"Great," she groaned quietly, unmoving from her position. "Just great."

Lowering her arm from her eyes, Helga squinted towards the clock beside the bed, if you call the cot she was lying in a bed of course, and glanced at the time. 7:30. School would begin in just over an hour.

Biting her lip thoughtfully, Helga glanced over at the phone sitting beside the clock, and stretching out for it, immediately recoiled. _No_ , she thought. _If I call Phoebe, she'll just tell me to stay at home, and the last thing I want to do is be stuck_ _ **here**_ _all day where nobody cares. No. It's better to go to school._

Heaving a heavy sigh, Helga dragged herself into a seated position, causing a wave of light-headedness to overcome her. She paused. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all.

A loud banging upon the door snapped her out of her reverie.

"Hey, Olga, you up in there!"

 _On second thought._

"It's _Helga_ , dad, how many times do I have to tell you?!" Helga snapped. "And yes, for your information, I'm getting dressed, so no need to keep yelling!"

"Right, Helga, whatever," came her father's reply. "Well, hurry up, you're going to be late, so get moving."

"Yes, _Bob_ ," Helga said pointedly as she stood up uneasily from the bed.

Hearing her father's footsteps walk away, Helga sighed.

"This is going to be a long day."

* * *

"Helga… you… you look awful!"

"Gee, thanks, that's just what I want to hear at the start of the day," Helga replied dryly, as she met up with Phoebe outside the Beeper Emporium's doors. "Nice start, Pheebs."

"I'm… I'm sorry, Helga," Phoebe stuttered apologetically, "but I mean it. You look terrible. Are you sick?"

"Gee, what gave it away, my flushed face or the massive bags under my eyes?" Helga replied wearily as she trudged along behind her friend.

"Both, actually," Phoebe said anxiously as she gave Helga a sideways glance. "Helga, you _really_ shouldn't be going to school like this," she said. "I mean, you look terrible."

"I feel it, too, don't you worry," Helga said quietly. "But the last thing I want to do is be stuck _there_ all day." She jerked her thumb back towards the silent building behind her.

"I understand that, Helga, but you really shouldn't be at school in this state," Phoebe pressed carefully. "You need to be at home in bed."

"And look after myself?" Helga said bitterly, with a quick shake of her head. "No thank you. I'd rather try my luck at school than be ignored at home."

Phoebe gave her friend a sad smile. "If you say so, Helga, but you really shouldn't-"

"Well, I do say, Phoebe, and if you know any better, you won't tell Arnold that I'm sick either," she said quickly as they went to round the corner where the pair usually met up with Arnold and Gerald. "The last thing I need is for the Football Head to be fussing over me too!"

"If you say so, Helga," Phoebe sighed. "But you know Arnold is going to figure it out sooner or later. Sooner, most likely," she added, with a quick look at the girl's flushed face.

"I'll cross that bridge when it comes to it," Helga said, waving her friend's concerns off, just as she ran into another figure coming around the corner. "Ow! What the-?" Her eyes widened as she saw who it was. "Arnold!" she exclaimed, her heart speeding up inside her chest. She shook her head quickly. "I mean… crimeny, Football Head, do you always have to run into me!"

"Actually, it hasn't happened in a while," Arnold pointed out, unfazed by the girl's outburst. Seeing her flushed face, though, he frowned. "Helga, are you feeling alright?" he asked worriedly. "You look a bit flushed."

"Bridge crossed," Phoebe said quietly, causing Helga to shoot the Japanese-American an annoyed glance.

"Can it, Pheebs," she hissed, before she turned her attention back to the boy in front of her. "And yes, I'm fine, Arnoldo," Helga said forcefully, despite the soreness in her throat, "I'm just hot from rushing around to get ready. My stupid alarm clock didn't go off!"

Arnold looked at her questionably. "Are you sure that's all it is, Helga?" he asked. "I mean, you look like you're running a fever." He reached up to feel Helga's forehead. His eyes widened. "You _are_ running a fever!" he exclaimed worriedly.

"I told you, I'm fine, Hair Boy, now just drop it, okay?!" Helga snapped, immediately stepping away from Arnold's outstretched hand with guilt gnawing at her insides at the hurt expression upon Arnold's face. He sighed.

"Fine," he said quietly, holding up his hands in defeat. "Whatever you say, Helga."

Biting her lip guiltily, Helga found herself heaving a sigh just as Arnold went to turn away.

"Actually… Arnold…" she said softly, causing him to turn back in an instant, "…you're right. I'm not feeling too crash hot."

"Then why are you going to school?" he asked her softly, reaching down to take the girl's hand, which was just as warm as her head. "You should be at home, in bed."

Helga mumbled something that Arnold didn't quite catch. He frowned.

"What did you say, Helga?"

Helga sighed. "I _said_ , I don't _want_ to stay home," she repeated, a little louder. She glanced down at her shoes. "I'd just be ignored anyway. I'd be better off at school."

Feeling a squeeze to her hand, Helga looked up to see Arnold giving her a soft smile.

"Look, Helga, I know things at home aren't the best-" Arnold started.

"-You got that right, Bucko," Helga scoffed.

"-but surely they'd at least notice you're sick?" Arnold finished, bypassing Helga's comment.

Helga shrugged. "I doubt it," she said gently. "They never really have before anyway."

There was an awkward silence between them as they approached the school. At long last, it was Arnold who spoke up first.

"Helga," he began, shooting her a quick look of concern, "if you start to feel worse during the day, just tell me, okay? If it makes you feel any better, I'll ring _my_ parents and they can look after you today. Would… would that be okay?"

Helga felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest. _Arnold was offering_ _to let his parents take care of her if she got worse? Oh, my love, you have to have the kindest heart of anyone I've ever known!_ She sighed happily.

"If… if it's alright with your parents, Football…I mean, Arnold, then yeah, I guess I'll do that," Helga replied, throwing him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

"It's okay," Arnold said softly. "Anytime you need someone to look after you, just _tell_ me okay? You don't need to hide it." Seeing how close proximity they were to the school, Arnold quickly dropped Helga's hand. "I'll see you in class, okay?"

"Okay," Helga said softly, and with one last swift smile, rushed up the stairs ahead of him, with one hand clutched comfortingly around her locket. The sudden burst of energy, though, did not agree with Helga's aching head.

"Urgh," she moaned, bringing a hand up to her burning head. "Bad idea, Helga. _Very_ bad idea."

"Do you want some help getting to class, Helga?" Phoebe piped up beside her. "You look a little unsteady."

Helga sighed. "I'm sick, not dead, Pheebs," she said stubbornly, jerking away from the girl's helping hand. "Don't worry about me."

Phoebe shot the pink clad girl a serious look. "Helga, there's no one in this hallway, but us," she said, brandishing a hand to prove her point. "Just let me help you for _once_ in your life. Please?" she added, a bit more timidly upon seeing Helga's narrowed look.

Helga sighed. "Fine, whatever," she muttered, as Phoebe placed a gentle hand on the square of the girl's back and gently led her to the classroom, where nobody even blinked an eye at the sight of the two girl's walking into class right on the bell, except Arnold, who gave his ill friend an apprehensive look as she slumped into the seat in front of him.

"I've gotta say, man, Helga does _not_ look too good," Gerald said anxiously, taking note of the girl's drooping form. "How the heck did she even get out of _bed_?"

Arnold sighed. "I know," he replied quietly, with one eye locked on the girl in front of him. "But you know what's she's like, she won't listen, no matter what I say."

"Mm, Mm, Mm," Gerald uttered, with a shake of his head. "That girl is just asking for trouble. I mean, if she lasts the first session, then I'll _really_ be surprised."

* * *

If only Helga knew just how right Gerald was. Within the first hour, Helga's attention span went from barely paying attention to the droning sounds of Mr Simmons's energetic voice, to drifting in and out of consciousness upon her hand on the desk. The clock on the opposite wall ticked by slowly as minute after minute passed by; each one feeling like an eternity. The sounds of the classroom echoed in Helga's skull as her head continued to pound making her feel queasy to her already sensitive stomach. _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all_ , she thought regrettably, as her teacher's voice sounded further and further away.

"Helga!"

Startled from her trance, Helga's eyes shot open, only to find every eye in the classroom upon her, all with identical looks of concern; Arnold, Phoebe and Mr Simmon's the most concerned of all as they stood in front of her desk.

"Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer!" she instinctively snapped, which she instantly regretted. A sharp pain vibrated through her skull with each syllable. Her arm shot up to her head.

"Owwww."

"Helga, are you quite well?" her teacher asked her anxiously. "You look as if you might have a fever."

"Just peachy, Mr S," Helga muttered wearily.

"No, she's not, Mr Simmons," Helga heard Arnold say. "She's had a fever all morning. She just didn't want to tell you."

Helga threw the boy an irritated glance. "Thanks a lot, Football Head."

"I'm sorry, Helga, but I'm afraid Arnold's quite right," Mr Simmons said gently. "Regardless of what you want to do, you can't be at school if you're unwell. It's not good for you, or anyone else."

"I don't _want_ to go home, though," Helga protested weakly. She paused as she felt a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

"Helga," Arnold said softly, "You don't have to, remember? Come on. I'll take you to the nurses' office and call _my_ parents, alright?"

"I'm fine, Arnoldo," Helga said stubbornly, despite the throbbing in her head. "Leave me alone."

" _Helga_ ," Arnold said, in a no-nonsense sort of tone.

Helga sighed. "Fine," she muttered, although inwardly she was relieved to be getting out of the stuffy classroom, so, with Arnold's hand firmly on her shoulder, she let him steer her towards the nurses' office down the end of the hall without as much as a comment. Her unusual silence was obviously worrying Arnold, as he kept shooting her nervous looks once every few steps, which normally would irritate the eleven year old if she didn't feel so awful. Not even Arnold opening the nurse's office door, and carefully leading her in issued a remark.

"Oh my goodness, dear, you look positively awful!" the high pitched voice of Nurse Shelly exclaimed, no sooner had they walked through the door.

"Tell me something I don't know, Nurse Obvious," Helga retorted, dragging herself over towards the concerned woman. "Do you think I'd be here if I wasn't?"

"Helga, she's just trying to help," Arnold said calmly.

Helga sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she mumbled, as Arnold and Nurse Shelley helped her up onto the bed.

"Oh, you poor dear," Nurse Shelley said gently, as she reached up to feel Helga's forehead. "I believe you have a very high fever. Did you come to school like this?"

Helga shrugged. "I thought I'd be alright."

"With that fever?" Shelley tutted. "Honestly, it's a wonder you lasted this long!" Turning her attention to the drawers behind her, the nurse quickly grabbed a thermometer from one of the drawers. "Open up, dear." She gestured to the girl's mouth.

Despite her irritation, Helga did as she was told and opened her mouth to allow the nurse to insert the thermometer into her dry mouth, before closing it impatiently. A few moments later, the little machine beeped, and taking it out of the girl's mouth once more, Nurse Shelley's eyes widened.

"102!" the woman exclaimed horrified. "Oh, you poor girl, you should be at home in bed!" Wheeling around to dump the thermometer in antiseptic solution, Nurse Shelley instantly made her way over towards the phone in the corner of the room. "I'm calling your parents to come and pick you up dear."

"No…No!" Helga stammered, her eyes widening in horror. "I…I mean…"

"Um… Nurse Shelley?" Arnold interjected quickly, seeing the distressed look upon Helga's face. "Helga's parents aren't home today. That's… that's why she came to school in the first place," he lied, throwing the nurse an innocent smile. "But I told her if she felt worse any time during the day that _my_ parents would be able to pick her up. If that's alright, that is," he added quickly, upon seeing the surprised look on the nurse's face. "Both my parents are doctors," he added for emphasis, with a quick look towards Helga. "She'll be in good hands."

"Well…" Nurse Shelley said slowly, "…normally we'd try and reach the parents first, but seeing as the two of you are good friends and your parents are willing to pick her up, I don't see why not." She gestured for Arnold to come to the phone. "I'll let you call them, dear."

"Thanks," Arnold said, his tone relieved. He turned to Helga with a small smile. "This won't take long, don't worry."

"Take your time," Helga drawled, but she couldn't stop a smile from forming on her lips as Arnold picked up the phone and dialled his number, and no sooner had a few seconds past when he was talking hurriedly to whoever was on the other end.

Not paying attention to the conversation, Helga found herself drifting off on the bed beneath her. It was in no way comfortable, but considering the state the girl was in, she didn't care in the least. Weariness crept over her as she lay there, causing her to become aware of every aching muscle within her body making her more uncomfortable than the eleven year old had ever felt in her life. Groaning, she covered her face with her arm and closed her eyes.

"Helga?"

Startled slightly, Helga's eyes shot open as Arnold's voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned towards him hopefully.

"My mom will be here as soon as she can, Helga," Arnold confirmed, throwing her a soft smile. "She said you can stay at our place as long as you need too."

Relief flooded through the girl's weary body upon hearing this, and giving out a comforted sigh, she gave the boy a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Arnold."

"You're welcome," Arnold said gently, reaching down to squeeze her hand gently. "Do you think you'll be alright until she gets here?" he asked. "It's just I really should be getting back to class. But if you want me to stay-" he added quickly, seeing the dejected look cross the girl's face, who immediately waved his concerns off.

"I'll be fine, Football head," she said dismissively, despite the sinking feeling within her stomach. "I mean, it's not like I'm not going to see you later on now, is it?"

Arnold smiled. "Mom will take good care of you, Helga, I promise," he assured her gently, as he placed a comforting hand upon the girl's shoulder. "I'll see you this afternoon."

"See you later," Helga said softly, and giving the girl last soft smile, Arnold turned on his heel and went back the classroom, with Helga sighing dreamily in his wake.

 _Oh, Arnold, what a kind and gentle soul you are. Wanting to stay here and make sure_ _ **I'm**_ _okay. It's like a dream come true! Oh my love, my-_

Nurse Shelley's voice interrupted her inner monologue.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked kindly, seeing Helga's dazed look. "Do you want me to get you a drink of water before Mrs Shortman arrives?"

Opening her mouth to give a retort, Helga closed it just as quickly as she noticed the parched dryness of her mouth. Clearing her throat, she gave the nurse a small bob of her head.

"I thought so," Shelley said, walking over to the tap to fill a cup up with water. "You're bound to be dehydrated when you have the flu."

"The flu?" Helga asked croakily. 'Do you think that's what I have?"

"Most likely," the woman answered, as she handed Helga the cup. "Unfortunately, it's going around right now, and you're not the first student I've seen with your symptoms this week. It's just that time of year."

"Wonderful," Helga said dryly as she sipped a bit of water, before falling silent as she waited to be picked up. Looking up at the clock, she watched as the hand ticked slowly past the 10:30 mark, with each passing minute feeling like agony for the fever ravaged young girl, who wanted nothing more than to collapse into a bed and sleep the day away. With her eyes beginning to feel heavy, Helga began to drift into unconsciousness as sleep began to take over.

A knock at the door jerked the girl back to consciousness.

"Oh, hello, you must be Mrs Shortman?" Nurse Shelley said cheerfully, as Stella entered the room with an anxious look etched upon her face.

"That's me," Stella said gently. "I'm here to pick up Helga." She turned to the young girl with a kind smile. "You ready to go, honey?"

Helga's eyes widened in surprise at the moniker, but instead of making a remark, she just gave the woman a slight nod.

"You have no idea," Helga said wearily, as she carefully slid off the bed onto the ground, only to wobble slightly as her feet touched the ground.

"I've got you," Stella said, quickly rushing over towards her, before wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders. She felt her forehead. "Hmm, you are warm, aren't you?" Stella said nervously. "Don't worry, I'll give you some medicine when we get home. Then you can have a sleep, alright?"

"Sounds good to me," Helga said drowsily, as she let Stella lead to the way out of the nurse's office, and out of the school, where Grandpa's Packard sat outside on the road.

"Do you want me to pick you anything before we go home, Helga?" Stella asked her kindly. "Or are you happy to just go home?"

"I…" Helga glanced up at the woman uncertainly. "No… I'm… I'm okay."

Stella nodded. "Alright," she said, opening the door for the young girl. "I'll just take you straight home, then."

Slipping into the car, Helga sat there in silence as Stella got into the driver's side, before quickly driving them back to the Boarding House. The motion of the car made Helga's heavy eyes begin to slip closed, but just before sleep overtook her, the sound of the car door closing jerked her awake once more.

"Sorry, honey," Stella said apologetically, upon noticing the girl's startled expression. "I should have told you we were here. Now, let's get you inside."

Placing an arm around the girl's shoulders, Stella gently helped Helga out of the door and up the Boarding House steps, before carefully pushing the door open, letting out the usual stream of animals into the street, then leading her inside. Closing the door behind her, Stella quickly glanced around at the abnormally silent hallway.

"Miles?!" she exclaimed, as she led Helga down the hall. "Phil? Gertie? You here?"

"Right here, hon," Miles said, peeking his head around the dining room door. "Hi Helga," he said gently, throwing the pale young girl a small smile. "Not feeling so crash hot, huh?"

"What gave it away?" Helga asked, throwing a weak smile in the man's direction, despite her discomfort to her unaccustomed surroundings.

Miles pretended to look thoughtful. "Hmm, well, if your croaky voice didn't give it away, I'd sure say your pale face certainly would," he replied light-heartedly, causing a twitch of a smile from the usually brash young girl. He glanced over towards his wife. "I set up the couch in Arnold's room for her," he said, before returning his attention back to Helga. "I thought you'd be more comfortable there than the spare room," he explained, "but if you'd prefer that, then-"

"No… no," Helga hurriedly replied, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, "…Ar…Arnold's room's fine."

Miles and Stella let out an amused chuckle.

"I thought you might say that," Stella smiled, causing Helga to frown in response.

"And what's that supposed to mean?!" Helga retorted rudely, despite every fibre in her being telling her not to. To her surprise, though, the couple barely reacted to the girl's sudden outburst.

"Oh, nothing, honey," Stella replied calmly, her smile never wavering. "We were just saying. Now," she continued, with a quick look towards the kitchen, "how about we get you some Tylenol and get you to bed?" She gestured for Helga to follow her, who hesitated for a moment, but soon followed after her after a shooting pain to her head snapped her back to reality.

"Oh, Arnold wasn't kidding when he said his little friend was sick," came Phil's voice no sooner had they entered the kitchen. He threw the girl a sympathetic look. "You look like you've been hit by a truck there, sweetheart. The flu, I'm guessing?"

"What do you thi-" Helga began forcefully, only to stop herself mid-sentence.

 _This Arnold's family, you dolt! Don't alienate them like you would anyone else! You_ _ **like**_ _them. Just let them help you!_

Taking a deep breath, Helga gave the elderly man a tiny smile. "That's what the nurse thinks anyway," she replied evenly. "And the truck thing is right on point, too," she said dryly, as another pain shot through her already aching head.

"That's what I'd say it is, too, I'm afraid," Stella said, as she poured the children's Tylenol into a medicine cup while Miles got her a glass of water. "With your fever and aching head, I'd say it's a given, which means you're in for a rough few days."

"Swell," Helga said monotonously, as she slumped into a chair, before placing her burning head into her hands with a loud groan.

"Here, hon," Stella said softly, pressing the cup of Tylenol into the girl's hands. "Take this, and then wash it down."

Helga gave the brightly coloured liquid a look of disgust. "You know, this lot should be sued for false advertisement," she muttered, peering warily into the cup, before upending it in one gulp, resulting in a subsequent shudder, before she quickly picked up the glass of water beside it and skulled it in one gulp.

"Brightly coloured things should _not_ taste this bad," she drawled, swallowing the last remaining amounts of water painfully, before giving out another shudder. "Gross."

Stella chuckled. "I agree, it's not the nicest flavour in the world," she said, taking the glass out of her hand. "Either way, it does the job. That should bring your temperature down at least. Now, let's get you upstairs."

"Do I have to?" Helga moaned, surprising everyone, including _herself,_ at how young she sounded.

 _Man, I must be sick. Where the heck did that come from?! Get it together, Helga old girl!_

"I… I mean," she amended quickly, straightening her body up within her seat, "do I have to go…now?" She laughed nervously. "I mean, I don't feel too bad now. But if you think it's for the best, then sure, I'll go." Placing a hand on the table, the girl hauled herself up off the seat.

Watching the scene unfold, Stella and Miles exchanged a knowing look.

"Well, you don't _have_ to, Helga," Stella said pointedly, as she discretely helped the girl over to the stairs, "but under the circumstances, it's probably for the best."

"Yeah, I guess," Helga said nonchalantly, as she made her way up the stairs. "I mean, the fever isn't going to go away unless I rest, am I right?"

Stella smiled. "Very right, Helga," she said, as they made their way into the room, where the older woman fluffed up a pillow already made up on the couch, before getting another blanket out of the closet. "Now, just lie down here, and try and get some rest, okay?" she said, as she draped the blanket over Helga's slightly shivering body. "I'll call your father and let him know you're here, but there's no rush to go home, alright?"

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, alright," she replied gratefully.

Stella smiled. "Alright, well, I'll leave you to it, then," she said, standing up from the couch. "I've given you a glass of water if you need it, and if you need help going to the toilet, just ask. Not that I believe you'll need it," she added quickly, seeing as Helga was about to retort, who quickly closed her mouth in response. "I'll check on you later."

Walking over towards the door, Helga bit her lip, before speaking up timidly.

"Um… th… thanks," she said, her eyes not quite meeting the older woman's. "You know… for everything."

Stella nodded to her. "You're quite welcome, Helga. Now, get some rest."

"No problems, there," Helga muttered to herself as the door clicked shut behind her, and heaving a sigh, Helga buried herself into the cocoon of blankets.

It wasn't long before Helga was asleep.

* * *

A touch to the head suddenly startled the young girl out of her sleep.

"Oh, sorry honey!" Stella's voice answered quickly. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just trying to bring your temperature down."

Feeling the coolness of a cold washcloth upon her head, Helga slowly opened her eyes to watch Stella gently fix the cloth into a better position. Satisfied she had, she quickly brought her attention back to the girl in front of her with a small smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by _two_ trucks," Helga replied wearily, groaning loudly as the achiness in her body became apparent. She glanced up at the bright stream of sunshine coming from the skylight. "What time is it?"

"Just after 2," Stella replied, with a quick glance at her watch. "Arnold will be home in a few hours."

Helga frowned. "Arnold? Why would you mention, Arnold?" She laughed awkwardly.

Stella gave her a pointed look. "You don't need to pretend with me, Helga," Stella said calmly, reaching up to move the washcloth over a little. "It's just me here. And I know having Arnold here will make you feel a little bit better." She looked at the eleven year old questioningly, whose face brightened further than it already was, before glancing down at the blanket still draped over her body.

Noticing she was making the young girl uncomfortable, Stella swiftly moved on.

"I just thought you should know that I managed to get through to your father earlier, as well."

Helga scoffed. "I bet that was a quick conversation."

"Actually, it wasn't," Stella admitted, causing Helga to turn to her in surprise. "He was actually rather concerned. Although, to tell you the truth, he wasn't really in a hurry to come and pick you up either," she added; an odd look crossing her face as she spoke.

Helga snorted. "Yeah, that sounds like Bob," she said, unable to hide the sadness in her tone. "So, I'm guessing you're taking me home, then?" she added, sitting up in an effort to drag herself off the couch, only to be swiftly stopped by Stella as she held out an arm.

"On the contrary, actually," Stella said, with an uncertain glance towards the sick girl. "When he didn't say when or if he was going to pick you up, I actually proposed that you stay here for the next few days. At least until your fever breaks anyway," she explained, nodding to a thermometer sitting loosely beside them. "It's still 102, and if your parents are as busy as you say they are, it might be better if you stay here for the meantime. If that's alright with you of course," she added, giving the girl an apprehensive look. "I mean, it's entirely up to you of course, but-"

"No… no," Helga interjected quickly, her heart lightening as she spoke. "I'd like to stay. That is, if Football Head doesn't mind, that is," she chuckled.

 _Darn it, Helga, why did you have to say that in front of Arnold's_ _ **mom**_ _! She'll never let you stay now!_

To Helga's surprise, though, Stella just gave out a slight chuckle of her own. "I'm quite sure _Arnold_ won't mind in the least. Besides, he'll be at school tomorrow and Friday anyway, so you'll be stuck with me more than anything. Are you ready for that?" she grinned.

Despite everything, Helga couldn't help but grin back.

"I think I'll manage," she replied casually, crossing her arms in front of her chest, only to feel a sharp shooting pain across her head once more.

"Owww."

"I think you need some more rest, hon," Stella said gently, seeing the pain within Helga's eyes. "I'll leave you to it. You can stay on the couch for now, but we'll move you down to the spare room tonight once everyone goes to bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"Oh," Helga said disappointedly. "Okay. Well, whatever floats your boat," she added, with a slight shrug.

Seeing the disappointment within the girl's eyes, Stella cautiously brought a hand up to the young girl's flushed face.

"I'd be happy to let you stay on the couch, Helga, I just think you'd be more comfortable in the spare room, that's all. I don't really want you to take a fall down those stairs in the middle of the night going to the toilet or anything."

Glancing at the stairs in question, Helga bit her lip thoughtfully. She had a point.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said quietly. "I mean, we don't wanna be wiping my blood off the floor now, do we?" she chuckled.

"Definitely not," Stella said, her face paling at the thought. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Alright, well, if you're going to stay here, I'll send Miles to your place to pick up some stuff for you. Is there anything you want in particular?" she asked.

Helga frowned thoughtfully, before quickly shaking her head. "Not really. Just some spare clothes and a toothbrush would be nice." She smacked her mouth at that thought. "My mouth feels like cotton wool."

"That doesn't surprise me," Stella said, as she handed the girl a glass of water. "But alright, I'll tell Miles."

"Just get Miriam to help him," Helga said. "If she's awake, that is," she muttered.

Hearing that comment, Stella frowned, but didn't press further. Instead, she took the thermometer in her hand and stood up from the couch.

"Before I go, Helga, would you like anything to eat?"

Helga blanched.

"I'll take that as a no," Stella said, taking note of Helga's horrified look. "We'll try again later."

"Yeah, that'd be better," Helga agreed, before another jolt of pain shot through her already pounding head, and groaning loudly, she tugged the blankets over her eyes to block out the light.

"Do you want me to move you to another room, Helga?" she heard Stella's concerned voice ask.

"I'm good," Helga mumbled quietly into her pillow.

"Alright, then."

Moving the cold washcloth lower towards her eyes, Helga's eyes slipped shut at the cool relief it bought her. And despite the amount of sleep she had already gotten, the heat radiating off her body seemed to take over any other thought within her, and before she could even move an inch, she had fallen asleep once more.

* * *

Helga woke up sometime later as shadows began to drift across the room. Frowning in confusion, Helga craned her neck in search of a clock, only to be startled by a voice from the other side of the room.

"It's just after 4," Arnold said quietly, upon noticing the girl was awake. Standing from his desk, he came over to the couch where Helga lay, tangled up in a mess of blankets, before sitting beside her with a soft smile. "How are you feeling?" he asked, reaching up to feel Helga's forehead with a gentle hand.

"Do I really need to answer that, _Arnoldo_?" Helga said irritably, as a wave of fatigue washed over her aching body. "I mean, I feel like my head's in a furnace!" she groaned.

"Sorry," Arnold said quickly, removing his hand from Helga's head. "I probably should have left you alone." Going to stand up, though, he was instantly pulled back by the feel of Helga's hand in his, causing him to turn back in surprise.

"I'm sorry," Helga mumbled, flicking her eyes nervously up to Arnold's face. "It's just…I feel really lousy, that's all. And with everyone bugging me about how I am-"

"-It's getting on your nerves," Arnold finished for her, causing the girl's eyes to widen in surprise. He chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I should have thought of that." Looking thoughtful, he suddenly glanced down at the girl with a wide grin. "So, how many trucks do you feel like you've been hit by?" he asked casually. "Have any more joined the party?"

Dumb-founded, Helga gawked at the boy in front of her for a moment, unable to believe what she was hearing. After a few moments, though, she gave a loud snort of laughter, which in turn caused Arnold's face to light up with a grin of his own.

"H…how many trucks have I been hit by?!" Helga cackled, her body shaking with unsuppressed laughter. "Oh man, you've been spending way too much time with me, Football Head!" she exclaimed gleefully. "That was a good one!"

Arnold shrugged. "Yeah, Gerold's sort of been saying the same thing," he said, reaching up to rub the back of his head bashfully. "But hey, I got you to smile, didn't I?" he pointed out, taking note of the bright smile lighting up Helga's flushed face. "And I gotta say, Helga," he added with a shy smile of his own, "it really suits you. You really should smile more often."

"Watch it, Hair Boy," Helga said blushingly, causing her face to glow brighter than was realistically possible. "We don't need to make me warmer than I already am now, do we?" She giggled shyly.

Arnold's face reddened, but he couldn't wipe the smile from his lips.

"Sorry, Helga."

"You better be sorry," Helga said, with a grin in the boy's direction. "The last thing I need is to keel over from embarrassment."

Arnold chuckled. "I'm not sure even _I'd_ be able to explain that one," he admitted, throwing her a bright smile.

"Me either," Helga said, bringing a hand up to her aching head with a slight groan.

Arnold frowned. "You okay?" he asked anxiously.

Helga shook her head dully. "I feel like there's a jack hammer digging into my skull," she said, gritting her teeth in pain. "Plus it's really _hot_ ," she added, forcefully kicking off the blanket. "Yuck."

Biting his lip nervously, Arnold quickly reached up to feel Helga's forehead.

"I think you're burning up."

"No kidding, Sherlock," Helga said wearily as Arnold quickly placed the ear thermometer into position before she had a chance to protest, and when it beeped a few moments later, Arnold's eyes widened in dismay to see the numbers _103_ flashing back at him.

"Huh," Helga said coolly, taking a peek at the flashing numbers on the tiny screen. "I gotta admit, I expected worse." She chuckled weakly.

"I just hope it _doesn't_ get any worse," Arnold said anxiously, turning his head his head toward the direction of the door before yelling " _mom!_ " as loud as his lungs could allow.

Helga winced as the boy's voice echoed within her skull.

"Crimeny, Football Head, my head's already on the verge of exploding, it doesn't need you to help it along!"

"Oh, sorry, Helga," Arnold said regretfully, reaching up to place a gentle hand over Helga's tender head. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"You could have fooled me," Helga muttered, just as Stella came rushing into the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"Helga's fever is up to 103," Arnold explained, holding up the little thermometer in confirmation. "And her head's hurting her."

"That's the understatement of the century," Helga mumbled, as Stella came over to feel her head.

"Don't worry, I've become prepared," Stella said calmly, brandishing a bottle of children's Tylenol in front of the two kids. "I had a feeling this might happen. Fevers always return late in the day." Grabbing the cup off the table, she carefully measured the right amount, before pouring into the cup and handing it to Helga, who gave the concoction a look of disgust, but made no move to protest; instead just upending the liquid into her searing throat, before swiftly washing it down with a glass of water. She shuddered.

"Gross."

"Well, that was a lot easier than last time at least," Stella said cheerfully, as she placed the bottle down upon the table. "How's your throat?"

"I think I've swallowed the glass as well as the water," Helga said hoarsely, with a glance towards the glass of water held firmly in her hand. "My throat _is killing me_."

"Don't worry, that should clear up in a few days," Stella assured her. "Now, I _know_ it's early," she continued, with a quick glance at the watch upon her wrist, "but would you like to have a shower, then get back into… well… _onto_ … the couch?" she amended quickly. "Or are you happy just staying here for now?"

Helga shook her head stubbornly. "No, I'm-"

"Actually, Helga, if I were you, I'd have one now," Arnold interjected casually, picking up on his friend's distinctive stubbornness. "If you leave it any later, you won't have _any_ hot water at all, and that's the last thing you want right now. Trust me."

Helga threw the boy an incredulous look.

 _I can't believe it! The Football Head just beat me at my own game! Oh, my love, you really_ _ **do**_ _understand me!_

Knowing she'd been beaten, Helga gave the mother and son duo an indifferent shrug.

"Fine, whatever. If that's what you think I should do."

"Miles has your bag downstairs, hon," Stella said, as Helga shakily dragged herself off the couch with a slight helping hand from Arnold. "After that, I'll leave you to it." As they reached the top of the stairs, she turned to her son with a smile. "I can take it from here, honey." He nodded, and giving Helga a kind smile, headed back into the room to start on some homework.

"Now, Helga, after you've had a shower, do you think you'd be up for something to eat?" Stella inquired, as she led the girl down the hall. "Or are you happy to just leave it?"

"I… I don't know," Helga admitted, glancing up at the woman uncertainly. "I mean, I do feel a little hungry, but I don't know if I can really eat or not."

"I know you probably don't feel up for it, but I'd feel better if you had _something_ in your stomach," Stella said. "Especially if you haven't eaten since yesterday."

"Why don't you try her on some soup?" Miles suggested, poking his head around the dining room door upon hearing the conversation. "It's probably the best thing for her right now."

"Oh, good idea, soldier!" Gertie exclaimed cheerfully, randomly appearing next to her son. "I'll go and make Eleanor some right now!"

"Oh, no you don't, Pookie!" Helga could hear Phil yelling from the kitchen. "We want to make the girl better, not worse, and your soup could knock a whole army barrack out for a week!"

Stella sighed. "I better go and settle this," she said, as Miles's voice could be heard joining the argument. She handed Helga her bag. "Just call me if you need me, okay?" And before Helga could say another word, she had bustled off the kitchen.

Despite herself, Helga chuckled.

 _This place may be nuts, but it's still better than home!_

* * *

Helga could never understand how a hot shower could make a sick person feel better, but as she reclined on the sofa an hour later, with her temperature back down to 101.5, and her head a little less explosive, who was she to argue with it? Lounging back against the pillows on the opposite side of the sofa, Helga watched as the sky above her changed from reddish-orange, to light purple, to sort of inky blackness as the afternoon changed into night, casting a thin veil of shadows across the vast room. The darkness made Helga's eyes heavy, and just as sleep began to claim her, the sound of the door creaking open nearby snapped her back to consciousness.

"Oh, sorry, Helga, I didn't know you were asleep," came Arnold's apologetic voice.

"Lucky for you, Football Head, I wasn't," Helga replied, throwing the boy a small smile as he came to sit down beside her. "Just drifting off, that's all." Casting a glance at the clock upon the bedside table, though, Helga frowned. "What are you doing up here anyway?" she asked curiously. "Isn't it dinnertime?"

"It is," Arnold confirmed. "Which is why I thought you might like some company. I mean, I wasn't going to leave you up here to eat on your own now, was I?" His face heated up as he threw the girl a bashful smile.

"Well, aren't we the sap?" Helga jested, despite the rising blush to her own cheeks. "You do know I would have been just fine on my own, Football Head?"

Arnold chuckled. "I know," he said softly. "I just didn't like the idea of you being up on here all alone, that's all. Especially when you're sick."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, don't come crying to me if you come down with it too, Hair Boy," she said. "I mean, jeeze, you're spending so much time with me, you're going to get sick before long too!"

Arnold shrugged. "I'll take my chances," he said. "I mean, I've had a flu shot, but it's just luck of the draw, isn't it?"

Helga glanced at him in astonishment. "B…but its 2 weeks until Christmas!" she stuttered. "I mean, surely you don't want to risk being sick _then._ "

"If I _do_ catch it, I'm pretty sure the worst of it will be over before then, Helga," Arnold countered. "I don't think it will make any difference."

Helga opened her mouth to retort, but finding herself unable to make a suitable comeback, she snapped it shut with a huff of impatience.

"Always gotta have a comeback, don't we?" Helga drawled, crossing her arms sullenly in front of her chest. " _Always_ gotta be the noble one!"

Arnold frowned. "And what's so wrong with me wanting to keep you company?" he asked testily. "I thought you that's what you _liked_ about me?"

"I… I-" Helga stuttered, trying to swallow down a retort that was bubbling up to the surface. "Yeah… well… who ever told you _that_ , Football Head?!" she snapped, causing her to inwardly kick herself. "I mean, I certainly didn't!"

Arnold sighed. This was going nowhere.

"Fine," he muttered, standing up from the couch. "I'll just go eat downstairs, then."

Helga's eyes widened in horror.

 _Why the heck did you say that, you idiot?! Arnold was all ready to stay with you and you blow it! Oh, why do I still have to be nasty to him after all this time?!_ _ **Why?!**_

"No… no, Arnold, wait!" Helga exclaimed frantically, causing Arnold to instantly turn back in surprise. She heaved a sigh. "Look, I'm _sorry_ , alright?" she whispered, glancing up at him through the top of her eyelashes. "I'm just… not used to all this attention, and… well, I don't know!" she exclaimed irritably, slumping back down onto the pillows, with her arms crossed over her chest.

Looking between the door and the girl he cared for upon the couch, Arnold found himself heaving a sigh, before walking over to her and sitting beside her once more.

"Look, Helga, I know you're not used to all of this yet," Arnold said slowly, reaching down to take Helga's hand in his own. "I mean, _I'm_ still getting used to it," the eleven year old admitted sheepishly. "But I think the one thing we can both agree on, Helga, is that we like each other. _A lot,"_ he added for emphasis, causing both kids to flush brightly. "And if we're to get used to each other, you have to try and stop the pretence. I mean, I don't expect you to stop completely," he assured her, upon seeing Helga's uncertain look. "All I'm asking is that you try showing me your true self every once in a while. Does that sound fair?"

Helga shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah… I guess that sounds fair," she admitted, throwing him a tentative smile. "And… I'm… I'm sorry."

Arnold smiled brightly. "It's okay, Helga." And before the girl could say another word, Arnold had reached out and given her unexpected hug, causing the young girl to inwardly swoon at the idea of her beloved's arms around her, before she reached up to wrap her around his waist in return.

"Wow, Helga, you really _are_ warm," Arnold said anxiously, as he pulled away from the embrace with a hand to her head.

Helga rolled her eyes. "I said I _felt_ better, not that I was, Football Head," she said. "And if that soup your Grandma is making is as bad as everyone says it is, I won't be for a while," she quipped.

Arnold laughed. "Don't worry, my dad's making your soup now," he assured her. "Lucky for you, Grandma lost the argument. Although that didn't stop her from trying anyway," he admitted, as he remembered the struggle that occurred between the two Grandparents down in the kitchen. "She was determined that Eleanor be back on White House duties quick smart!" he grinned, quoting the old woman's words.

Helga laughed. "Well, I give her full credit for trying!"

"She didn't just try, she almost succeeded," came Stella's voice as she entered the room. "Miles caught her trying to sneak her own concoction onto the tray just as I was coming up here," she elaborated upon noticing the kids questioning looks. "Don't worry, I made sure it was the right one," she assured Helga, as she gave the bowl a narrowed look. "It wasn't hard to tell the difference."

Arnold grinned. "Grandma's looked like a great green blob, didn't it?"

Stella grinned in reply. "Oh, yes, it did."

Helga chuckled. "Well, thanks for the save, Mrs S," she quipped.

"Stella, dear," the woman corrected her kindly. "And you're welcome. Now, just try and eat as much as you can, okay?" she said, gesturing towards the bowl of hot steaming chicken soup in front of her. "Don't force yourself. Same goes for you, honey," she added, with a quick glance towards her son. "I'm afraid your father might have overdone it." She gestured to the large pile of vegetables upon the boy's plate.

"Well, at least I'll be healthy," Arnold noted, stabbing at a carrot at the corner of his plate. "It might protect me from Helga's germs, too." He threw her a pointed glance.

Helga groaned. "Oh, ha ha, very funny. Aren't we the comedian?" Her lips twitched up in a small smile.

Stella chuckled. "Alright, I'll leave you guys to it, then. Just bring those down to the kitchen when you're done, Arnold." She nodded to the two plates the kids held on their trays.

"Sure, mom," Arnold said, before turning his attention back to Helga, who was picking lightly at the noodles within her soup.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"My stomach's just a bit bubbly, that's all," Helga said, throwing him a reassured smile. "I mean, I guess that's what happens when you haven't eaten all day. This is really nice, though," she added quickly, pointing to the soup. "Is this all handmade?"

Arnold nodded. "Dad's one for cooking things from scratch."

"Huh," she replied, surprised. "My parents could _never_ do this. Guess I'll have to come to dinner more often!" she joked, causing Arnold to glance up at her with a smile.

"You can if you want," he said cheerfully. "My parents would love it!"

"R…really?" Helga stuttered, her heart speeding up in reply. "I mean… I was only joking."

"Well, I'm not," Arnold said, reaching over to place a tender hand upon her shoulder. "And anytime you want to come over for dinner, Helga, you're welcome."

Helga threw him a grateful smile.

"Gee, thanks, Arnold," she said softly, causing Arnold to smile at her in turn, before returning to his own meal.

Despite the fact that Helga hadn't eaten all day, the eleven year old was surprised to find that she could only eat half of the delicious soup, making her feel enormously guilty when it was time for Arnold to return the dishes to the kitchen.

"It's fine, Helga, don't worry about it," Arnold assured her gently as Helga voiced these thoughts. "My parents didn't expect you to eat it all. They just wanted something in your stomach."

"I guess so," Helga said quietly. "I just thought I'd eat a little bit more, that's all."

"You did pretty well for someone who's sick, in my opinion," Arnold said, as he took the bowl off her. "And speaking of that, mom said she's got the spare room all made up for you, so whenever you're ready to go to bed, just say the word."

"O…oh," Helga said, her stomach sinking with disappointment. She was starting to enjoy the time she was spending with Arnold.

This must have shown on her face, too, as Arnold swiftly put down the plates, before placing a tender hand on her shoulder.

"I know you're comfortable up here, Helga, but mom's right. It's better for you to sleep downstairs at night in case you need the toilet," he said gently, throwing her a kind smile. "If it were up to me, I'd be happy for you to stay here," he admitted, causing a faint blush to rise in his cheeks. "But it's probably for the best."

"Yeah, I guess so," Helga mumbled, as Arnold picked up the dishes, before heading downstairs.

Helga sighed. _Damn flu!_ She thought. _I_ _ **finally**_ _get the chance to sleep in Arnold's_ _ **room**_ _, only to have to leave once its night time. If only there was some way she could convince Stella that she was well enough to remain where was._

A wave of nausea interrupted her thoughts.

 _Well, sort of well anyway. I mean, my stomach is bubbling like a case of Yahoo Soda. Yuck. Maybe that soup wasn't such a good idea._

Laying down to quell her stomach's bubbling, a wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over the girl causing her close her eyes in response. She groaned. She better get to bed. Her eyes sprung open.

 _That's it!_ She thought. _If I'm already asleep when Arnold and Stella come back, then they can't make me go the other bedroom, can they? Yes, that's it!_

Smirking gleefully to herself, Helga quickly fixed the pillows on the end of the couch, before laying on them in an awkward position, making it look as if she had just randomly fallen asleep, before placing the blanket half over her aching body. Her head was feeling slightly warm again, but she ignored it, as made herself comfortable, and once she was satisfied she was, she closed her eyes.

Arnold and Stella's voice drifted up the stairs a few minutes later, just as Helga was slowly beginning to drift off to sleep for real, but the sound of the two Shortman's brought her slowly back to consciousness just enough to her them stop short upon entering the room.

"She must have been tired than she was letting on," she heard Arnold say softly, before feeling the blanket being pulled up to her chin. "Do you think we should leave her here?"

There was a slight pause. "Well, I would have liked her to sleep in the other room, but if she's comfortable here, I guess it's alright. I mean, I could have Miles take her to bed, but that might risk waking her up."

 _Yes!_ Helga inwardly thought, as she desperately tried to lie still. Her cover slipped for a moment as she felt a tender hand run through her ponytailed her, and her heart stuttered as she heard _Arnold's_ voice from right beside her.

"Do you think we should let her hair down?" he was asking his mother. "I mean, it doesn't look very comfortable."

"No, just leave it for now," Stella said gently. "You don't know, she may sleep like that, so it's best to leave it to her. Let's go. We'll let her sleep. If she wakes up before you go to bed, maybe we can move her then."

"Okay," Arnold said softly, before Helga's eyelids were suddenly encased in darkness as the light was switched off in the bedroom, before the door was clicked shut behind the mother and son.

Listening out for the pair on the stairs, Helga found herself grinning in victory.

 _Yes! I fooled them! I get to sleep in Arnold's room tonight, I can't believe it! Oh, my beloved, my-_

Her stomach gave another uncomfortable lurch.

 _Oh, forgot it._

* * *

 _Yeah, sadly, poor Helga has to get worse before she gets better, and boy is she in for it next chapter. The flu is not pretty._

 _Ok, so a few things to note from the chapter. Yes, Mr Simmons is their teacher again, because frankly he is a very good one and I would hope they'd have him again. Stella and Miles, I hope, are written okay, because frankly we don't know much about them and a lot of us are using a lot of creative license with them, but I personally believe they would look after Helga if she really needed it. I mean, Helga's family aren't exactly family of the year and I wouldn't really want to them looking after me either while sick. I mean, they would have noticed sooner or later, but not when Helga needed them the most. And since this is still fairly early on their relationship, I still had some awkwardness between Arnold and Helga, yet at the same time, showed how much they trust each other. I mean, they are only eleven, so things are still a little unusual and they aren't quite a couple, but also not just friends._

 _So, what did you guys think? Please remember that despite being a Hey Arnold fan since I was a kid, I've never actually written for the show before and I'm still getting used to it. Please feel free to leave a review and tell me what you think :) Please be aware, though, that_ _ **I DO NOT TOLERATE FLAMES IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM.**_ _Any that I do receive will not be acknowledged and will be automatically deleted. I do however accept,_ _ **KIND**_ _constructive criticism, as long as it written respectfully. This is mainly because the first time I posted a fanfic up on the site way back in 2003 (which did so happen to be for Hey Arnold!), I had a few uncalled for nasty reviews, despite warning people of my age (I was 12) and my first time writing and I quickly deleted it and was too afraid of posting another story again until 2014 when I was encouraged to post a httyd story of mine, which has now grown bigger than I ever expected it too, and I still wonder how it happened!_

 _Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 will be up after Christmas, and hopefully it's shorter than this one, but unfortunately I'm well known for lengthy chapters. Just ask my regular readers!_


	2. Love and Care

_I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this story so far. The response that I have gotten is more than I could ever have expected and I am I very grateful for the response I've gotten. You have no idea how much it means to me!_

 _Ok, this so chapter Helga's flu is a lot worse and the first part of the chapter may possibly make some people queasy, but I tried my best not to make it too descriptive or anything. I also had to do some research into how to lower a very high fever without medicine and I was actually surprised at what I read, so I was glad I did the research after all! I also incorporated a few things that people mentioned within their reviews in some form or another, which also includes the spelling of mom which was previous 'mum' which is the Australian version. I apologise for the confusion! I've never had to change it in my other fanfics because in them the characters are Vikings so the spelling doesn't matter as much. I was just used to that, that's all._

 _Now, this chapter focusses more on Helga and Stella than Helga and Arnold, but as her flu decreases, that will change next chapter. This chapter was more about her being taken care of than anything and I actually rather enjoyed the dynamic I wrote between the Helga and Stella. Helga is also a little bit more subdued and emotional in this chapter, but that's mainly because she's feeling so ill, but that'll change as she gets better._

 _Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

Chapter 2 – Love and Care

* * *

Helga tossed and turned, deep in sleep. A restless sleep, full of peculiar and confusing dreams. She was seated next to Arnold, and Phoebe, and Gerald, and all her other classmates in a new rollercoaster at Dinoland. The ride didn't seem to end. She had been around the circuit at least three times now, all of it being up-then-downhills and troughs - and it was all that she could do to keep her hands tight against her mouth to stop herself from vomiting all over everyone. She looked around, trying to get somebody's attention that something was wrong, but everyone didn't seem to notice her, their joyful yells and screams blotting out any sound she could have made. Right as she thought she couldn't hold it any longer though, Arnold turned to her.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Helga frantically shook her head.

"We need to get off!" she yelled over the rushing wind. "I'm gonna be sick!"

* * *

Helga suddenly snapped out of the dream like she'd been hit by lightning. She really _was_ going to be sick; _now_. Her stomach churned violently as she groggily shambled out of her makeshift bed in an effort to find the door in the darkened room, all the while sweeping her hand across the wall urgently in search of a light switch. She could feel the bile rise swiftly into her throat, and before she knew it, suddenly emptied the pitiful contents of her churning stomach onto the floor.

"Oh, no," Helga uttered weakly, raising a shaking hand to her mouth as a wave of emotion began crashing over her like a wave at the beach. Tears filled the eleven year old's eyes as the remnants of the action burned in her throat, and as a sob ripped through her chest painfully, she was suddenly blinded by an unexpected light. She winced.

"Helga?" Arnold's voice was anxious. "Helga, are you…. oh…" Upon seeing the mess on the floor, the boy quickly glanced over at her sympathetically.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Arnold…" Helga said tearfully as Arnold swiftly got out of bed. "I… I didn't mean… it just happened so fast and-"

"It's okay, Helga," Arnold said gently, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It's _not_ your fault. You couldn't help it."

"But… -" Helga protested weakly, "…but I barfed all over your floor."

"Don't worry about it," Arnold repeated softly, gently manoeuvring her over to the door. "Let's just get you to the bathroom."

"Arnold?" Stella's concerned voice drifted up the stairs. "Is everything alright up there?"

"Um… not really…" Arnold replied hesitantly, with a quick glance at Helga. "Helga's just been sick."

A sound of rushing footsteps reached the two kids ears, and before either of them could say or do anything, the door was suddenly whisked open to reveal Stella, whose attention immediately turned to Helga as soon as she entered the room.

"Oh honey, are you alright?" she asked gently, upon seeing the pallor of the young girl's cheeks.

"Just peachy," Helga drawled, as Stella wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders. "I mean, it's not like I just ruined Arnold's floor or anything." She threw a tentative glance over towards the mess.

"Don't worry about it, hon," Stella said kindly as she helped the trembling girl down the stairs. "It can easily be cleaned up. It's _you_ I'm more concerned with."

"What's going on?" Miles stuck his head out the door at the commotion. "Is everything alright?"

"Helga's just had a little accident, that's all," Stella explained to her husband gently. "Her dinner didn't agree with her."

"Ah," Miles said, with a nod of understanding. "I'll go and clean that up, then."

"I'll help," Arnold said swiftly, gently taking his arm away from Helga's shoulders.

Helga snorted. "That's just what I wanted. For my boyfr… urgh… friend…to clean up after me." She chuckled weakly at the slip.

Knowing what Helga was about to say, Arnold's face turned a bright shade of pink, but made no move to address it. Now was definitely _not_ the time.

"I don't mind, Helga," Arnold said kindly, throwing her a warm smile. "I just want to help."

Helga's face reddened slightly.

"I kn-" Pausing mid-sentence, Helga's eyes suddenly widened in horror.

 _Oh, crimeny, not again! Not now!_

"Helga?" Arnold asked worriedly.

Unable to answer him, Helga suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth, before making a mad dash to the bathroom, slamming the door violently.

Helga's eyes streamed as her stomach contracted aggressively into the toilet, her chest and throat burning painfully at the acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted like bile. Reaching a shaking hand to her mouth, Helga gently collapsed onto the cold floor and closed her eyes as she leant up against the coolness of the porcelain behind her. Sweat broke out in large beads upon her forehead as a wave of exhaustion washed over the fragile young girl.

 _Crimeny, of all places to barf, I just_ _ **had**_ _to do it in Arnold's room, didn't I?!_ she thought angrily. _If_ _I'd just_ _gone downstairs like I should have, this never would have happened! Stupid! I'll be lucky if Arnold will_ _ **ever**_ _want me here again after all this!_

That very thought brought another wave of nausea over the girl, and she quickly leaned over the toilet once more, just as a rap sounded on the door, which was quickly opened to reveal Stella, who swiftly rushed over and dropped to her knees beside her. Helga felt the woman gently pull back a few stray strands of hair that had fallen dangerously in front of her face, before tucking them back onto their normal pigtails.

"Thanks," Helga said weakly, glancing up at the woman gratefully, before disappearing once more into the toilet as another wave of nausea hit her delicate stomach.

"Let it all out, honey," Stella said gently, rubbing small circles on the girl's back. "It'll pass."

"I don't _want_ to let it all out," Helga moaned feebly as she re-emerged. "It's _disgusting_."

"I know," Stella said understandingly, pulling up a chair beside the frail young girl. "But your body is trying to get rid of something it doesn't want. Don't try and fight it."

Helga moaned. "I hate this."

Stella smiled softly. "It'll pass eventually, don't worry," the woman assured her, standing up from her chair to grab the thermometer from the cupboard behind her. "It's just going to get a little worse before it gets better, that's all."

"You sound like my sister," Helga mumbled, leaning up against the toilet bowl while there was a lull in the nausea. "Always trying to make things sound better than they are." She scoffed. "Heck, Olga is the only person I know that could find something _good_ in being sick."

"Has she always been that optimistic?" Stella asked inquisitively, bending down beside the girl. "Hold still for a minute, hon," she said, placing the thermometer into the girl's ear.

"Pft," Helga scoffed, upon hearing the little machine beep. "Cheerful is Olga's middle name. The woman doesn't know the meaning of sad! She's enough to drive a person around the bend, she is." She glanced up towards Stella, who was looking at the temperature reading with a concerned look on her face. "Bad?" she asked.

"103.5," Stella confirmed, with a nervous glance in the girl's direction. "Any higher and I might need to put you into a bath. If that's okay with you that is," she added, seeing the surprised look upon Helga's face.

"Hey, if it will stops my head from feeling like an oven, I don't care _what_ you do," Helga said quietly. She wiped an arm across her clammy forehead, before suddenly letting out a distressed moan once more.

"Oh, not again," Helga groaned, before once more vanishing over the rim of the toilet. Her eyes watered as she re-emerged a minute later, and sniffling, she reached up to scrub the wetness from her eyes.

"Here, hon," Stella said softly, passing the girl a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth out."

"Th… thanks," Helga said shakily, reaching out to take the cup, where she took a large swig of water and swilled it around her mouth.

A sudden knock on the door startled the two of them.

"No need to worry," came Phil's voice from outside the door. "It's just me. Can I come in or is little Helga still indisposed?"

Stella turned to Helga, who just gave a nonchalant shrug. Her nausea had subsided for now.

"You're okay, Phil," Stella said, and the door opened to reveal Phil, who quickly glanced over at Helga with a concerned glance crossing his weary face.

"Oh, you poor darlin'," Phil said sympathetically, taking in the young girl's pale face. "You look as if you've been in the wars."

"I feel it too," Helga mumbled in reply.

"I don't doubt it," Phil said, throwing her a kind smile. "And I thought you'd just like to know that you don't have to worry about anyone barging in on you. I just spoke to the others and they've all agreed to use the downstairs bathroom for tonight. Although if I'm being completely honest, I don't think Oscar will come within a ten mile radius of the place," he added, emitting an amused chuckle. "That's one way to keep him out of your hair anyway!"

"Thanks for that, Phil," Stella said gratefully, throwing her father-in-law a smile. "I know you didn't have too."

"Nonsense," Phil said, waving a hand at the woman's comment. "I wasn't going to have Arnold's little friend disturbed any more than she needs to be. Especially now." He threw the eleven year old a gentle smile. "You get better, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning."

Despite everything, Helga couldn't help but throw the elderly man a small smile in return.

"Thanks Mr Shortman," she said, as a wave of nausea suddenly engulfed her, causing her face to turn a nasty shade of green.

"That's my cue to go," Phil said quickly as he quickly stepped backwards and pulled the door shut behind him, just as Helga threw up for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

"This sucks," Helga said hoarsely as she sat up once more a few minutes later.

"I know it does, honey," Stella said gently, handing Helga the glass of water once more. "But there's nothing much we can go until it stops I'm afraid."

"You know, you don't _have_ to stay in here with me, you know?" Helga said tetchily, as she accepted the glass off the woman. "Surely there's better things to do than watching me puke all night."

"That's _not_ the reason why I'm in here, Helga," Stella said kindly as Helga passed the glass back over to her. "I'm here because your fever is high and I need to keep an eye on you. Everything else is just extra."

"Well, I'm fine, so there's no need to worry," Helga said irritably, crossing her arms in front of her chest; mostly to mark the fact that she was beginning to shiver. "I'll call you if my fever gets any higher. Just go back to bed."

Stella raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in the girl's tone.

"I'm not going to do that, Helga, so you might as well give it up," Stella said calmly, moving herself into a more comfortable position on the chair. "You're sick. I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I'm fine," Helga said stubbornly, despite her shivering, which she was trying desperately to hide. "I don't need anyone's help."

Another wave of nausea derailed her protests.

"Oh, you've got to be _kidding_ me," Helga said tearfully as her stomach contractions ceased. "How long is this going to go on for?"

"Not much longer, I'm sure," Stella said as she rubbed circles on the girl's back. "Just try to bear with it."

"I feel like death," Helga muttered, dropping her façade slightly as her arms drooped from their position over her chest. "And who opened a window?" she asked drowsily, looking around for the culprit. "It's _freezing_ in here."

"There's no window open in here, hon," Stella said worriedly, quickly snatching the thermometer beside her. "I think the fever might be getting to you. Hang on." She quickly placed the little machine in the girl's ear, and within a few moments, it beeped, and quickly glancing down at the result, Helga watched as Stella's own face paled.

"That's it," Stella said anxiously, jumping out of her seat. "We're getting you into a bath. Your temperature is 104."

"Swell," Helga mumbled tiredly, as Stella quickly poked her head out the door, where she could be heard talking to someone down the hall, before making her way over to the bath where she swiftly turned the taps on, adjusting the water to the appropriate temperature.

"Come on, Helga, let's get you into the bath," Stella said, bending down in order to help the weary young girl up. "You don't have to strip all the way. Just down to your singlet and panties is fine. I'll get you dry clothes afterwards."

"I don't mind," Helga mumbled, pulling her pyjama top up over her head. "I mean, we're both girls."

"You can pull up your singlet when we need too, Helga, but it's not necessary," Stella said, helping the girl out of her pyjamas, then into the bath, where Helga shivered slightly at the lukewarm temperature, but quickly relaxed as Stella began quickly sponging water over her exposed skin.

"I thought you dunked people with a fever in ice water?" Helga asked drowsily, as Stella continued to work.

Stella glanced up at the girl in surprise.

"Is that what your parents do when you have a fever?"

Helga scoffed. "Heck, no," she said quietly, holding up her arm so Stella could run the sponge underneath it. "I don't think Bob and Miriam have ever done this." She frowned thoughtfully. "Most they've done is give me a few doses of Tylenol and come in to check on me." Helga frowned thoughtfully. "Actually, I think the last time I was sick, _Olga_ looked after me. I can't remember the last time Miriam actually stayed with me in the bathroom when I was sick."

"And your father?" Stella asked quietly.

Helga shrugged. "I don't think he's ever done much more than give me a few doses of Tylenol. He's never been one for that sort of stuff."

Stella frowned. "So who looks after you when you're sick?"

Helga shrugged again. "I look after myself mostly," Helga admitted. "I mean, Miriam will bring me some medicine once she notices and will check on me every now and then, but other than that-"

"-you're on your own," Stella finished for her, throwing her a sad smile. "What about your sister?"

"Olga's been known to look after me even when I'm even _slightly_ sick," Helga said irritably. "When she's home anyway," she added. "She actually looked after me last year when I had a stomach virus." She shuddered at the memory.

"That's very sad, Helga," Stella said softly as she continued to dab water onto Helga's skin.

Helga threw the woman a small smile. "Eh, don't worry about it," she said. "I'm used to it. It's just the way things are with them. And they have been known to come through when you need them. Sometimes," she added quietly, with a glance away from Stella, who smiled sadly at the girl in front of her.

"Helga, if there's anything we can do for you every once in a while, don't hesitate to ask, okay?" Stella said kindly. "I know Arnold will do anything for you."

Helga scoffed. "After tonight, I doubt he'll ever want to be around me again."

 _Not after I threw up in his bedroom anyway._

Stella threw the girl a sceptical look.

"You really think Arnold will stop wanting to be your boyfriend just because of a bit of sick on the carpet?"

"Even Football Head has limits," Helga muttered, before her brain suddenly caught up with her. "Urgh… I mean…" she stuttered, her cheeks reddening brightly as she spoke, "…why would you say boyfriend? I mean, just because I _like_ the guy doesn't mean I want to go out with him!"

Stella chuckled. "It was just a slip of the tongue earlier then, was it?"

"You're darn right, it was!" Helga exclaimed, causing the girl to wince as the louds sounds reverberated through her aching head. Her hand shot up to her head. "Owww."

"Don't work yourself up, Helga," Stella chided gently. "I know you want to keep up appearances, but now is _not_ that time."

"How would you know what I'm doing or not?" Helga snapped.

 _What did I say that for? Idiot! Even when I'm sick, I have to open my big mouth! Stupid!_

"I'm sorry," Helga mumbled, throwing the woman an apologetic glance. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"It's alright, Helga," Stella said. "But please remember, it's just me talking here. You don't have to hide from me."

"I know," Helga mumbled, quickly glancing down at the water lapping around her so as not to look at Stella's concerned face. "Huh," she said surprised. "What do you know? I think it's working."

"Are you feeling better?" Stella asked her, pulling out the thermometer in order to check her temperature.

"A little bit," Helga admitted as the device was placed into her ear. "I don't feel like my head's going to burst into flames anyway."

Stella smiled. "Well, you're half right," she said, bringing the thermometer into her line of sight. "102," she read aloud. "It's still a fever, but it's better than it was at least."

Helga raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Gee, who would have thought a bath of _warm_ water would bring down a fever? You learn something new every day!"

Stella chuckled. "Actually, it's _lukewarm_ ," the woman corrected her. "But you're pretty close. Cold water would have just confused your body and made you feel worse."

"That so?" Helga said, genuinely interested. "Well, I've learnt something." She threw a grin up at the woman's direction, only for her eyes to widen in horror as a familiar sensation gripped her insides.

 _Oh, no, not again!_

Realising what was happening, Stella quickly sprang into action, grabbing a bucket beside the toilet, and swinging it back, reaching Helga just in time for her to empty her bubbling stomach's contents into the bucket.

"Urghhhhh," Helga moaned, reaching up to push some loose hair off her sweaty forehead. "I thought that had _stopped_." She leant her head onto the coolness of the bath. "I just wanna go back to bed."

"I know, hon, I know," Stella said sympathetically, reaching over to put Helga's damp hair up into a loose ponytail to keep it out of her way. "But for now, let's get you out of here and I'll put down a pillow and blanket for you. Or are you comfortable staying in here a little bit longer?" she asked, seeing Helga's weary expression.

"I'll probably fall asleep if I stay in here," Helga admitted hazily as exhaustion began to take over her.

"Alright, let's get you out, then," Stella said, reaching out in order to help the young girl out of the bath, who couldn't even raise the energy to object, except to throw the woman a pointed glance as she clambered out of the bath and back to her spot beside the toilet, which she unfortunately used no sooner had she sat down.

"I never want to see another toilet as long as I live," the girl slurred as she leant her head uncomfortable against the rim of the toilet, before closing her eyes.

"I think that might present some problems," Stella quipped, earning her a tiny smile from the exhausted eleven year old's mouth, but she made no move to open her eyes. Even a sudden change in temperature, courtesy of a cold washcloth being placed upon her forehead, didn't startle her.

The last thing she remembered, despite another wave of nausea, was Stella's gentle hand running through her messy blonde locks as she drifted asleep.

* * *

Helga groaned as the sunlight hit her eyes. Rolling over, Helga buried her aching head into a pillow, trying to block out the outside world from returning her to full consciousness. Her mouth felt like cotton and her body ached all over as she lay there, debating as to whether or not she really needed to open her eyes or to keep on sleeping. She was too comfortable. Wait a minute. Comfortable?

Opening her eyes slowly, Helga swiftly raised her head, wincing slightly as the sunlight hit her bleary eyes, only to find herself tucked into a bed situated close to a window. Beside her, a glass of water and a thermometer stood on a bedside table, and a soft breeze was blowing through the window, which was opened just a few inches, moving the curtains situated over the window.

 _What the heck? What am I doing in here? I'm pretty sure I fell asleep in the bathroom last night!_

Recalling back to last night, Helga swiftly directed her attention towards her stomach, which she was relieved to feel, was no longer bubbling away like a witch's cauldron and was feeling still and quiet for the first time since yesterday morning. Testing it out, Helga warily reached out for the glass of water beside her and took a sip and was relieved when the action didn't reignite her gag reflex. Reassured, she cautiously drank some more, which also stayed where it belonged.

"Oh, good, you're awake!"

Helga turned her attention towards the door where Stella was just entering with a relieved smile etched onto her face.

"Yeah, sort of," Helga mumbled, raising a hand to her aching head. "How did I get in here?"

"Miles brought you here after you fell asleep," Stella explained gently, sitting down on the bed beside her. "You hadn't been sick for a while, so I thought it was safe enough to bring you back to bed." She threw Helga a hopeful glance. "How do you feel now?"

"Well, I no longer feel like barfing every time I drink some water, so I take that as a good sign," Helga said as she lay back against the bed head. "But I still feel like I've run over by a truck."

"You still will for a few more days, unfortunately," Stella said sympathetically, pressing a hand to Helga's forehead. "You're right in the height of the flu, I'm afraid."

Helga snorted. "You don't need to tell me twice." Frowning thoughtfully, she glanced around the room. "What time is it anyway?"

"Around ten," Stella replied, as she got to work checking Helga's temperature. "You finally fell asleep at about three this morning."

"After the amount of times I barfed, it doesn't surprise me," Helga said with a shudder. "Chock that up to be one of the worst nights of my life."

"Yeah, well, it should be over now," Stella assured her. "If you haven't been sick after this amount of time, the worst should be over." She removed the thermometer from the girl's ear. "Still 102," she said, with a quick glance down at the screen. "But it's better than last night at least. I'll get you some Tylenol." Standing up from the bed, Stella glanced down at Helga with a smile. "Do you want to try some food?"

At the mention of the food, Helga's stomach grumbled loudly in reply.

"I'll take that a yes," Stella chuckled as Helga's face brightened with embarrassment beside her. "But we'll start on something light. How does a bit of toast sound to you?"

"Pretty good actually," Helga admitted. "And… um… how… how was Fo… I mean Arnold this morning?" she asked the woman nervously, her face barely masking her anxiety. "Was…was he-"

"He wasn't angry at you for throwing up in his room if that's what you're asking, Helga," Stella replied gently, causing Helga to breathe a sigh of relief. "Actually, I don't think the thought even crossed his mind this morning. He was more concerned about how you were. He wanted to say goodbye to you, but after the night you had, I thought it was best to let you sleep."

Helga blushed brightly.

 _He was worried about me! I haven't scared him off after all! Oh, what a kind, caring person my love is!_ She inwardly swooned at the thought.

Stella chuckled. "I'll go and get your toast sorted," she said, standing up from the bed. "Make sure you take that." She gestured to the half full medicine cup sitting beside the bed.

"Great," Helga said dryly, eying the cup in disgust. "Oh, and Stella?" She turned back to the woman nervously. "Th… thanks. For last night, I mean," she explained quietly, seeing Stella's perplexed look. "I know you didn't have to do it."

"It was no trouble, Helga, I promise you," Stella said gently, throwing the girl a small smile. "If it helps you, I'm happy to do it. But, Helga-" she continued, her expression serious, "-if you ever need someone to talk to or to do anything for you, don't hesitate to ask okay? Don't _ever_ feel like you can't trust us."

"Well… actually… I already have a… a psychologist," Helga admitted nervously. "Dr Bliss. But I… I guess it would be nice for someone else to talk to. But that better not leave this house!" she added heatedly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"I won't tell anyone anything you don't want me too, Helga," Stella assured her, unfazed by Helga's outburst. "I promise. It will stay just between you, me, Miles and Arnold."

"It better stay that way too," Helga replied. "I don't want anyone knowing my business."

"And they won't," Stella said kindly. "Now, drink up, and I'll be back soon."

"Swell," Helga mumbled, grabbing the medicine cup just as Stella left the room and glaring it at, before upending it in one swing. She shuddered.

"Should have just let the fever get me instead," Helga muttered after she washed it down with water. "Nasty."

Placing the glass of water back on the end table, Helga wriggled back down under the covers as comfortably as she could, before closing her eyes once more. She may have felt better than she did last night, not that that was hard to top, but it was still a far cry from being well. The eleven year's head and body still burned with fever, her head was pounding and her whole body ached with every muscle she used. She was exhausted, pure and simple.

"Knock, knock."

Helga opened her eyes to see Miles standing in the doorway, holding a tray of plain toast and a new glass of water, with a large smile etched onto his face.

"Oh, hey Miles," Helga said with a smile of amusement. "Stella got you waiting on me hand and foot now, does she?"

Miles laughed. "I guess you could say that," he said, upon entering the room, only to trip over a dent in the rug. "Woah!" Righting himself, he grinned sheepishly. "Well, that was almost a disaster," he said, gesturing to the two pieces of toast that had slipped slightly off the plates. "Nearly didn't have lunch." He placed the tray in front of her with a smile.

Helga chuckled. "And here I thought it was the _flu_ that would get me, not lack of food."

"It's _because_ of the flu that you don't have anything in your stomach," Miles pointed out as Helga cautiously picked up a piece of toast. "After last night, you need something to build your strength up."

"Don't remind me," Helga muttered. "Although I'm not the one who had to clean it up." She threw the man an apologetic glance.

"Don't worry about it, Helga," Miles said, waving her concerns off. "It happens. No harm done. And Arnold wasn't bothered by it either. He was just worried about you."

"Yeah, that's Football Head for ya," Helga said, causing Miles to chuckle at the moniker. "Always worried about others more than himself. Sap." She blushed lightly as she bit into the toast.

"A sap that wasn't scared off after what happened last night," Miles pointed out.

Helga smiled. "Yeah, true, I guess." She glanced down at the toast in her hand, before warily taking another bite. To her relief, her stomach didn't react.

"Just take it slow, and eat as much as you can," Miles said, standing up from the bed. "I'll come back to collect it later." Going over to the door, he tripped up on the same spot, before running into the doorway.

"Ow."

"I'd be careful if I were you," Helga said, throwing the man a grin. "Keep that up and you'll be as bad as me."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Miles chuckled. "Just ask Stella."

"Ask me what?" Stella's voice could be heard outside the doorway, before a giggle could be heard. "You tripped over the rug, didn't you?"

"Um… maybe?"

"Thought so."

Snorting loudly, Helga went back to her two dry pieces of toast, which, thankfully, were just what the doctor ordered. The toast was just bland enough that it didn't irritate her delicate stomach, and it was enough to make her feel better. Chewing through it slowly, Helga made sure everything was going to stay where it belonged, before taking a large swig of water, then lying back down as weariness began creeping over her once more as it clicked into early afternoon.

Throwing an arm over her warm head, Helga closed her eyes, and before she knew it, sleep had claimed her once more.

* * *

The sound of rustling woke Helga sometime later, and slowly opening her eyes, she squinted at the figure beside her, only to find Arnold placing something on her bedside table. Noticing that he had woken her, he threw her a sheepish grin.

"Sorry, Helga, I was trying not to wake you," he said apologetically. "I must have been louder than I thought."

"You probably weren't," Helga said, throwing the boy a grin. "For all we know, I have some sort of radar that can tell when you're around."

Arnold laughed. "Well, if that's true, I had no hope then." Sitting down beside her, he gave her a small smile. "How are you feeling?"

Helga shrugged. "I could be better," she admitted, glancing up at him from her place on the pillow. "But at least I'm not barfing all over the place."

"Mom said you weren't," Arnold said, his tone relieved. "I'm glad. You had a rough night."

Helga snorted. "You're telling me. I just hope your floor recovers." She threw the boy a nervous glance.

"Helga, it was an accident," Arnold said kindly, reaching out to place a hand over her own. "You couldn't help it."

"Yeah, well, it probably wouldn't have happened if I'd just come down _here_ to sleep," Helga said, throwing the boy a pointed glance.

Arnold chuckled. "Helga, I knew you were faking it," he said simply.

Helga's jaw dropped. "Wh… how…. How the heck could you have possibly have known that, Football Head?!"

Arnold grinned sheepishly. "You're not as convincing as you think, Helga."

"Gee, thanks a lot, _Arnoldo_ ," Helga said, her cheeks burning brightly with embarrassment. "Why don't you just humiliate me even more?"

"I wasn't trying to, I promise," Arnold said gently, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "I just thought you were happier where you were, that's all. I never meant to embarrass you."

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have done it either, I guess," Helga admitted hesitantly. "At least then I wouldn't have-"

" _Helga_ ," Arnold said firmly, instantly cutting off Helga's comment. "Don't _worry_ about it. It's not the end of the world. I'm not going to stop liking you just because you got sick in my room."

"Think you know me so well, don't you, Football Head?" Helga remarked.

Arnold shrugged. "Well, I'm right, aren't I?" he asked quietly.

"Whatever floats your boat, Hair Boy," Helga replied coolly, despite a faint tinge in her cheeks giving her away. "Now, what's all this?" she asked, gesturing to the items on her bedside table.

"Oh!" Arnold exclaimed, diverting his attention back to the items he'd brought in. "Something from the class. Phoebe brought in a Get Well card this morning and before you knew it, Rhonda had got a hold of it, and by the end of the day, the whole class had signed it. See?" He handed the sizable card over to Helga, who opened it with a look of surprise.

"Huh, I'm surprised Miss Priss wanted to sign it," Helga admitted as she scanned through the card. "Thought she would have been only too happy that I was out for the day."

"She's not as bad as you think, Helga," Arnold said. "And besides, no one wishes you to be sick. Even if a few of them _did_ find it funny at first," he admitted sheepishly.

"Gee, I couldn't tell," Helga said sarcastically, gesturing to one particular comment on the card. " _To Helga, hope you stop barfing soon. Harold_ ," she read dryly. "Yeah, he's a real poet that one."

"I actually think he was being nice," Arnold admitted. "Because after he found out what happened last night, he turned as green as you were."

Helga snorted. "That I would have liked to have seen. Maybe I should start calling him 'Green Boy' instead."

"That's not very nice, Helga," Arnold remarked.

"Oh, lighten up, I was just kidding," Helga replied coolly. "It's not like I can do much more at the moment. All I want to do is sleep."

"Which is the best thing for you right now," Arnold pointed out. "It'll help you get better faster."

Helga scoffed. "Not fast enough if you ask me," she said, reaching up to press a hand to her forehead. "I still feel like a furnace."

"Mom said she'll give you some more medicine in a few hours," Arnold assured her. "She just doesn't want you to have too much, that's all."

"Believe me, I'm not complaining," Helga said. "That stuff is revolting."

Arnold grinned. "Yeah, I know. Grandma made me drink the stuff when I had a cold last year. I thought I'd _never_ get the taste out of my mouth."

"Yeah, I noticed," Helga said dryly. "It's better than being sick all night, though."

" _Anything_ is better than that," Arnold admitted. "Even Sid and Stinky shuddered at the thought of what you went through last night. Which is why everyone hoped you felt better."

Glancing back down at the card, Helga found her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sheer number of messages written on every inch of space that could be found. Every single person in the class, as well as people she knew around the neighbourhood had signed it, including people the eleven year old had least expected. Helga had to admit that the gesture was slightly touching, albeit a tad unusual. She knew deep down that her classmates didn't _hate_ her, but they certainly weren't on the best of terms either, even after her and Arnold's new found friendship. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.

"Helga, are you alright?" Arnold's concerned voice pierced her thoughts.

"Huh?" Helga said, quickly glancing up at the boy in question. "Oh, no, I'm fine Football Head. I'm just a bit… well… surprised anyone wanted to sign this, that's all." She held the card up in demonstration.

"The class isn't that bad, Helga," Arnold said gently. "No one wants to see you sick. Especially Phoebe," he added. "She was really worried about you this morning."

"Tell her I'll call her when I feel up to it, would ya, Football Head?" Helga asked. "I mean, I'd do it tonight, but I'm not really in the mood to be on the phone for ages."

"Sure thing, Helga," Arnold smiled. "I didn't think you would be. And neither did Phoebe, which is why she got you the card."

"Well, tell her thanks for me," Helga said sincerely. "It's nice." Glancing down at the card once more, she suddenly chuckled.

"I see Tall Hair boy had his fun," she said. " _Hope you feel better soon, Pataki, the class is mighty quiet without you!"_

"Gerold was a bit creeped out how quiet is was," Arnold admitted. "Especially since both you _and_ Curly are out with the flu."

"Hey, don't blame me for that one!" Helga exclaimed, holding her hands up in protest. "I didn't go near the little freak!"

"We know that, Helga," Arnold assured her with a grin. "I was just saying. The class is super quiet without the two of you."

"Knock out Miss Priss and you'll all be going loony from boredom," Helga quipped, before she cast her gaze back down to the card in her hand, where she blushed faintly upon finding Arnold's message upon the card.

 _Hope you feel better soon, Helga. Being at school isn't the same without you. Love, Arnold._

"I wanted to write more, but everyone was watching me," Arnold said bashfully.

Helga snorted. "Always the way, huh?" she grinned, before letting out an unintentional yawn.

"I'll let you get back to sleep. Mom will wake you up later to check your temperature," Arnold said swiftly as he stood up.

"You don't have to leave," Helga protested weakly, despite another yawn. "I'm only yawning."

"You're tired, Helga, don't worry about it," Arnold said, placing a hand to her shoulder gently. "I'll see you at dinner."

"Yeah, okay," Helga said quietly, before Arnold threw her a smile and left the room, causing the eleven year old to give out another yawn.

 _Ruddy flu! Is it ever going to end?! At this rate, I'm never going to get time alone with Arnold!_

"101.5," Stella read out a few hours later. "Well, that's certainly better than last night!"

"Tell me again why I couldn't take this stuff _before_ I had dinner?" Helga asked dryly, holding up the medicine cup in demonstration. "Now all I'm going to taste is this all night."

"Yeah, sorry, Helga," Stella said apologetically, watching as Helga upended the concoction with a light shudder. "I'm afraid I didn't think of that. I just thought it would be better for you to take it before you went to bed, that's all."

"Eh, it won't kill me," Helga shrugged, before giving out a violent cough.

"Someone sounds like they're in the next stage," Stella said sympathetically, listening to the girl's loud barking. "When did all of this start?"

"A few hours ago," Arnold said, from his place on the other side of the bed. "She said she's had a tickle in her throat all day."

"What he said," Helga croaked out, waving a hand in agreement towards Arnold.

"In a way that's a good thing," Stella said. 'It means your body is doing what it's supposed to. Even if it is annoying," she added, upon seeing Helga's irritated expression.

"Annoying?" Helga said hoarsely. "I feel like I'm going to cough my lungs up!"

"I'll get you some cough medicine before you go to bed," Stella assured her. "But the thing for now is to keep resting. This means you're at least halfway through."

"Swell," Helga muttered, before barking out another cough. "Urgh. And here I thought I couldn't feel any damn worse than I did," she groaned, laying an arm over her heavy eyes.

"I'll go get you some cough medicine," Stella said, getting up from the chair beside the bed. "I don't think you'll be staying up much longer."

"Gee, no kidding," Helga muttered as Stella left the room.

"Do you want me to go too, Helga?" Arnold asked.

"Hey," Helga began, removing her arm from over her weary eyes, "I know I'm not the life of the party, but I can't be that boring, can I?"

Arnold laughed. "You're not boring, Helga," he assured her. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get to bed, that's all. I mean, I wouldn't blame you. You look exhausted."

"I feel it, too," Helga said wearily. "But it won't kill me to stay up a few more minutes."

"If you say so, Helga," Arnold smiled.

"Well, I _do_ say so, Football Head," Helga replied with a grin. "I'm not going to let some flu tell me what to do. Although it's doing a pretty good job of it," she admitted, emitting another cough.

"Well, it hasn't been _all_ bad," Arnold said, with a hint of a smile. "When else am I ever going to see you with your hair down like that?" He gestured to Helga's hair, which was tumbling down her shoulders in waves. "It looks really pretty. But then again, I always did find you quite pretty, didn't I, _Cecile_?" He threw a pointed glance in Helga's direction.

Helga flushed.

"Oh, can it, Football Head!"

* * *

 _I know I had a few people ask me about Arnold finding out about the whole Cecile business, but as this story takes place 3 months after the end of The Jungle Movie, I always assumed that it would been brought up somewhere along the line, so I decided to have Arnold tease her about it instead which is something I could see him doing!_

 _Ok, next chapter Helga will slowly start to feel better and we'll see a bit more of her relationship with Arnold which I am rather enjoy writing. It's nice to see them getting along with each other rather than her picking on him and I hope to extend this some more in the rest of the story._

 _Ok, so, once again,_ _ **PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_ _Although if I'm being honest, I had so many reviews for the first chapter, I was starting to feel a little overwhelmed! Not that I minded, I was just shocked! Just remember, though,_ _ **I DO NOT TOLERATE FLAMES IN ANY SHAPE OR FORM**_ _, but_ _ **KIND**_ _constructive criticism is accepted. I'm aiming for the next chapter to be up in a few weeks._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	3. Improvement

_Hey guys, sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, but I had some trouble when I first started writing it, and after I reworked it, it finally began to flow, to the point where my chapter plan went out the window as the story seemed to have a mind of its own! For this reason, this story will now be 5 chapters, instead of my originally planned 4, but oh well!_

 _Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited this story. I got almost got as many reviews last chapter as I did with chapter 1 and I was very pleased with the response, so thank you so much!_

 _Ok, so as promised, this chapter mostly focusses on Helga and Arnold's relationship, although there's still some Helga and Stella moments. Helga is slowly starting to feel better n this chapter, but she's still unwell, which is fairly clear. Quite a few things in this chapter just came out of nowhere, including a very funny about Miles, but it turned out better than I expected! Although a tad longer than planned._

 _Also, a quick disclaimer before you begin, I of course don't own anything related to Disney, which is mentioned in this chapter with a movie the kids watch. Although I sometimes wish I did! I was trying to come up with a parody of certain movies, but my imagination sadly has limits, so I had to use the real deal._

 _Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

Chapter 3 – Improvement

* * *

An icy breeze startled Helga from her sleep Friday morning. Shivering violently, Helga grabbed a fistful of blankets and turned away from the offending breeze, cocooning herself amongst the blankets in the process without even opening her eyes. Exhaustion continued to envelop the eleven-year old's body as she made no move to get up despite the chill in the air. Heat continued to radiate off the girl's skin as the fever continued to ravage her body, albeit not as bad as it had been. Sweat no longer clung to the girl's skin in beads, instead being replaced by a thin layer of moisture that, which, combined with the cold air, had a rather nice cooling effect.

 _Who needs an ice pack when you have a breeze like that?!_

Helga shivered involuntarily as another blast of cold air hit her cocooned body, causing her to curl up against the biting cold as it penetrated through her mountain of blankets and irritate her throat, leading to a violent coughing fit that had been hovering beneath the surface.

 _Well, so much for that!_

"Helga?" Stella's concerned voice reached Helga's ears. "Helga, are you alright in there?"

"Y... yeah," Helga choked out as Stella entered the room. "J... just a tickle, that's all." She brought a hand up to her mouth as she barked out another cough.

"Here, hon," Stella said gently, handing the girl a glass of water. "Have a drink."

"Th… thanks," Helga croaked, accepting the glass gratefully. "I think it was the air."

"And no wonder!" Stella exclaimed anxiously. "You've got the window wide open!" Making her way over towards the open window, Stella reached up to take a hold of the window ledge before gently bringing it down, leaving only a tiny crack at the bottom of the ledge.

"Well, it wasn't this cold _last_ night," Helga admitted sheepishly as Stella made her way back over to the bed. "I didn't think I'd freeze myself half to death!"

"That's because it _wasn't_ this cold," Stella confirmed, with a glance towards the window. "But now it looks like we have some snow on the way."

"Really?" Helga asked eagerly, flicking her eyes towards the window. "Huh, I was wondering when the stuff was going to arrive!"

Stella chuckled. "Well, it hasn't _quite_ started to snow yet, but it doesn't look like it's too far off. I don't think we're going to get much, though."

"Eh, better than nothing," Helga said. "But if I'd known, I would have left the window shut last night. At least I'd still be asleep anyway," she mumbled irritably.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Helga," Stella said apologetically. "Arnold _was_ going to come in and check on that earlier, but he was worried that he was going to wake you up and after he went to school, it must have slipped my mind."

"School?" Helga asked dumbly, with a glance towards the window. "Is it that late?"

"I'm afraid so, Helga," Stella said gently. "It's just after 9 now. You wouldn't think it with how dark it is outside, though."

"Oh," Helga said, evidently deflated.

Stella smiled. "He didn't want to wake you up, honey," she explained softly, knowing where the girl's mind was at. "But he said for me to tell you that he's going to come straight home from school this afternoon. He _also_ -" Stella continued, with a grin in Helga's direction, "-wanted me to give you this." Reaching a hand around her back, Stella produced a very familiar looking item to Helga, whose cobalt eyes widened in shock towards it.

"Arnold's hat?" Helga asked weakly, stretching out her hand so that she could take the tiny blue hat. "B… but it's his most treasured possession! Why would-"

"He said it was too cold outside for him to wear it today anyway, so he thought you might like to keep it with you," Stella smiled, watching as Helga's face morphed between shock and glee. "For safe keeping, you know?"

"Yeah… well… h… he's a sap!" Helga exclaimed, crossing her arms in front of her chest stubbornly. "I mean… why would I _want_ his silly old hat?! It's just a hat! I mean, it's not like it can talk!" she scoffed.

 _Why do I_ _ **always**_ _have to do that?! Arnold finally does something I've been only dreaming of for years and_ _ **that's**_ _how I respond! What is wrong with me?!_ _ **Stupid!**_

"I… I mean-"

"It's alright, Helga, I know _exactly_ what you mean," Stella said, giving the girl a playful wink. "But if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can always take it-"

"N… no!" Helga exclaimed quickly, effectively cutting off Stella's next words. "I mean, sure I'll have it. I mean, Football Head gave it to me for a reason, didn't he? Might as well have it." She laughed nervously, before barking out another violent cough.

"I'll go and get you some cough medicine," Stella said, standing up promptly. "I'll be right back." And before she could say another word, she exited the room.

As soon as she was out of sight, Helga sighed happily, clutching the little blue hat close to her chest.

 _At long last! My beloved has given me a token of his affections! How I have longed for the day that you would give me something so special, so cherished! Your most treasured possession is in my hands and by your own precious hand! Oh my love!_

A hacking cough interrupted the girl's monologue.

 _Crimeny, can't I do_ _ **anything**_ _without coughing my lungs up! Sheesh!_

Heaving an irritated sigh, Helga lay back against the bed head and pulled the covers back up to her waist. The last coughing fit had left her slightly breathless and after downing a glass of water to placate her raw throat, swiftly brought her attention back to the hat held firmly between her hands. She could scarcely believe that Arnold had given her, _Helga G. Pataki_ , his most prized possession as a comfort to her while she lay in bed, sick. It was a dream come true! The thought made her face heat up, and she was sure it wasn't because of the fever this time. Arnold _actually_ cared for her. He would never give up his hat to just anyone. The very idea made her swoon.

Turning the hat over in her hands, Helga nervously reached up and placed the little hat upon her messy flaxen hair, where it precariously sat on the edge of her head. One wrong movement would be enough to knock it flying. Heaving a sigh, she pulled it off her head.

"You could always pin it to your hair."

Startled, Helga quickly wheeled her head towards the door where Stella was just entering with the bottle of cough mixture and the thermometer held firmly in her hands. Realising she had been caught out, Helga swiftly placed the hat down on the bedside table, before just as quickly picking it up again. There was no point in hiding it.

"Do… do you think that would work?" Helga asked uncertainly as Stella came into the room and placed the items in her hands beside her on the table.

"I don't see why not," Stella said thoughtfully, with a quick glance towards the headwear. "I mean, all you'd have to do is pin it to your hair. It'll still move, but it should held it in place anyway."

"Yeah… alright, then," Helga said tentatively. "But you better not tell anyone what you're doing!" she exclaimed hastily.

"Don't worry, Helga, your secret's safe with me," Stella said quietly, giving the girl a playful wink as she existed the room, and in a trice, swiftly returned.

"Sheesh, what did you do, teleport?" Helga asked wryly.

Stella chuckled. "No, I just happened to have one in my room," she explained, sitting down beside the girl. "Now, let's see if this'll work."

Placing the hat on the centre of the girl's head, Stella carefully slipped a bobby pin through her hair and attached it to the bill of the hat, before repeating the process again, this time with another pin at the back of the hat. She wiggled it.

"How does that feel?" she inquired.

Shaking her head cautiously, Helga felt the position of the hat move slightly, but make no move to slip off her head. She smiled.

"I think it'll do."

"Good," Stella said contentedly. "That should do it until Arnold comes home anyway."

"I bet Football Head didn't think this through," Helga remarked dryly, gesturing to the hat situated comfortably on her head. "They probably all laughed when they found out where his hat was."

"Personally, I don't think Arnold cared," Stella said as she now placed the thermometer into Helga's ear. "I think he just wanted to help you more than anything."

"Typical Football Head," Helga said, but she couldn't hide the blush that was rising deeply in the groves of her cheeks. Coughing awkwardly, she swiftly turned her attention to the rapidly beeping device held firmly in the woman's hand.

"So, do I still have enough heat to power a space heater?"

Stella laughed. "No, not anymore," she replied, throwing the eleven year old a cheerful smile. "100. Technically still a fever, but you're getting there. Keep this up and your fever may actually break by tonight."

"Guess that means I'll have to go home tomorrow, huh?" Helga enquired lightly, trying very hard to appear nonchalant. "I mean, there's no point in sticking around once I'm well again is there?"

"No, not until _you're_ ready," Stella assured her softly, placing a tender hand upon the girl's shoulder. "And even if your fever _does_ break tonight, you're still not going to be well enough to do much for a few more days. So, if you want to stay here until Sunday afternoon or even Monday, you can."

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You really don't mind me staying here?"

"You can stay as long as you want, Helga," Stella smiled. "And I'm sure Arnold wouldn't mind either. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"Eh-" Helga said casually, "-I guess it wouldn't hurt me to stay for a few more days, then. I mean, it's not like my parents seem to care that much anyway."

"Oh!" Stella exclaimed suddenly. "I completely forgot! Your parents actually rang last night."

Helga raised her eyebrows. "You're joking… right?" she asked uncertainly. "I never heard the phone ring."

"It was after you'd gone to bed," Stella explained. "Around nine actually. Why they chose to ring that late, though, is beyond me," she said, bewildered.

Helga scoffed. "Probably because they knew I _would_ be asleep," she said cynically. "So, who was it that rung? Bob or Miriam?"

"Your mother," Stella replied, causing Helga's eyes to widen in astonishment.

"Well, there's always a first time for everything, I guess," she muttered. "Did she have anything interesting to say?" she asked casually.

"She just wanted to know how you were and whether you needed anything," Stella said. "So I just told her that you still had a fever, but you were on the mend and that you probably wouldn't be home until the weekend sometime."

"And what'd she say to that?" Helga asked dryly.

"Nothing much," Stella admitted, throwing the irritated girl a sheepish expression. "She just said she hoped you felt better and that she'd see you soon. She hung up not long after that."

"I'm surprised you got that much out of her to be honest," Helga admitted. "But I guess I should be grateful they rang in the first place. Olga probably put them up to it."

"It sounds to me your mother rang of her own accord," Stella remarked. "Because she seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say and when I told her how you were, she sounded relieved."

"Yeah, well, I guess even Miriam can surprise sometimes," Helga said dryly, before suddenly emitting another hacking cough, causing her to bring a fist up to her mouth in response.

"I'll leave you to rest," Stella said, effectively changing the topic as she stood up from the bed. "Do you want something to eat?"

Heaving a cough, Helga gave the woman a thumbs up in response to the question.

"I'll be right back, then," Stella said. "And have a drink once you've stopped coughing," she added, gesturing to the glass of water beside the bed, before making her way out of the room.

Once her coughing fit has passed, Helga quickly grabbed the glass of water and took a few wary sips, before leaning her head back against the headboard with a swift sigh. So, her parents had rung. That _was_ a surprise. Sure, she knew her parents weren't _completely_ neglectful, but the last thing she expected was for them to contact Stella and Miles just to find out how she was. In all her life, Helga couldn't recall a time when they actually did more than what was strictly necessary whenever she was sick, so actually calling to inquire how she going was _very_ unfamiliar ground. Had someone put them up to it or did they actually do it of their own accord like Stella thought? Oh well, she guessed she'd find out when she got home, which Helga sincerely hoped wasn't for another few days. Sick or not, it seemed like the eleven year old had received more care and attention in the past three days than she had her whole life, and the last thing she wanted was to go home, if you could call it a home, when she was still so unwell.

The thought of the kindness she had received over the past several days brought her attention back to the tiny hat still situated snugly upon the top of her head. Bringing a hand up to her head, Helga was unable to suppress a contented sigh as her hand brushed the little blue hat pinned firmly to her hair. Just a few months ago, the eleven year would never have _dreamed_ of her beloved giving her such a caring gesture, and now here she was, tucked up ill in bed in his house, being cared for by his kind and loving parents while Arnold cared for her as much as she did him and for the first time in her young life, Helga felt, well, _happy_. There was no other word for it. Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the tiny bit of kindness Arnold had bestowed upon her atop of her head and she quickly pushed any thought of her parents from her mind as she continued to lay there, and after breakfast, actually remained awake for an extended duration, watching the window for any signs of the oncoming snow.

It wasn't until after lunch when Helga fell into a short nap, curtesy of the fever which had crept surreptitiously back up to 101, before decreasing again to 100 shortly before 3 upon awakening from her slumber.

"It happens sometimes," Stella remarked, after she rechecked the girl's temperature. "Sometimes when we think we're getting better, our bodies decide to mess with us. But everything looks to be alright now."

Helga snorted. "It was probably because I didn't have a nap this morning. That's when I started feeling off again."

"For all we know, it probably was," Stella agreed with a chuckle. "Our bodies have been known to take offense with what we do to it sometimes."

"Tell me about it," Helga said dryly. "Just ask what happens to me after I eat pork rinds before bed."

"You and Miles, both," Stella grinned. "Just ask him about the last time _he_ ate them at night. His arm was in a cast for weeks."

"I thought we agreed never to mention that again, Stella?!" Miles' voice could be heard bellowing from the kitchen.

Helga snorted. "What the heck happened?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Stella giggled. "Let's just say sleepwalking and Miles don't go together and leave it that, shall we?"

"Oh, come on!" Helga drawled. "You can't just leave me hanging!"

"Leave you hanging about what?" Arnold suddenly appeared in the doorway, with a bewildered expression crossing his windswept face. "What are you talking about?" He glanced over at Helga, and upon seeing her sitting up in bed, with his hat situated comfortably upon her untidy locks, his face broke into a wide smile.

"Hey, you're awake!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "You look better, too."

Helga smiled. "I feel it, too, sort of," she replied, moving aside so that Arnold could come in and sit beside her. "Still pretty tired, but I'm getting there."

Arnold smiled. "My hat looks good on you," he stated, pointing to the small blue headwear sitting comfortably on her head. "I knew you'd like it."

Helga flushed. "Yeah… well… I bet you didn't think it through, did you, Football Head?!" she snapped, throwing the boy an exasperated glance. "You were probably teased about it all day!"

Arnold rolled his eyes at the show of force. "No, Helga, I wasn't," he said calmly. "Sure, people found it funny, but they didn't _tease_ me about it. Besides-" he continued with an indifferent shrug, "-I don't really care what they think and _you_ shouldn't either," he remonstrated, giving her a pointed glance.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Football Head," she muttered, although there was mistaking the smile etched upon her lips.

"What am I going to do with you?" Arnold grinned, causing the girl to flush in reply. "Now, what was it that you were talking about when I came in here?"

"Your mom was about to tell me about a time when your dad slept walked on pork rinds," Helga said in amusement, before Stella could answer. "But your dad was being a kill joy and won't let her tell me!" she added, raising her voice in the direction of the open door.

Stella chuckled. "Oh, never mind him," she said, waving off her husband's concerns. "He's just annoyed because Eduardo has never let him down for it."

"What the heck happened?" Helga asked keenly. "Come on, you've _gotta_ tell me!" she begged, raising her hands to plead with the older woman.

"Yeah, come on, mom, what happened?" Arnold asked curiously.

Stella laughed. "It was back in San Lorenzo-" she began.

"Well, there goes my dignity," they could hear Miles mutter from out in the hallway.

"-before I even found out I was expecting Arnold," Stella continued, bypassing her husband's trepidations. "We were doing some studies with some other Americans in the middle of the jungle, and one of them just happened to have a bag of pork rinds, which your father _used_ to love," she said pointedly, throwing her son an amused grin.

Arnold chuckled. "I guess he doesn't anymore?" he guessed.

"That's an understatement," they heard Miles mumble.

Stella chuckled. "If you're just going to moan about it, honey, why don't you come in and tell it?"

There was a pause. "Yeah… I'd rather not."

"Then stop interrupting!" Stella laughed, before turning her attention back to the two inquisitive kids. "Well, anyway, before you know it, the man had offered Miles the pork rinds and he'd eaten them in one sitting-"

"Uh oh," Helga grinned.

"Yeah, well, ordinarily, Miles wouldn't eat anything like that at night, but it must have just slipped his mind," Stella continued. "And that night, he started mumbling nonsense in his sleep, and before I knew it, it was quiet. Took me a few hours to realise that he'd wandered off, and even longer before Eduardo and I discovered him…" Stella paused as a fit of laughter began to overtake her.

"Where was he?" Arnold asked, his eyes alight with curiosity, while beside him, Helga was hanging onto every word the woman was saying, her eyes wide with interest.

"We… we found him in a boar pit!" Stella exclaimed, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Found him in a boar pit completely _naked,_ with nothing on but his shoes, _and_ a broken arm to boot!"

Helga and Arnold's lips quivered for a moment, and before long, they both started howling with laughter, causing them to miss the sigh of exasperation from the man himself from out in the hallway.

"S… so it turned out that in his quest to do whatever his dream was telling him to do, he had relieved himself of his clothes on his trek towards the village and in the process, had fallen into a covered over boar pit where the villagers found him the next morning!"

"And I've never been let down for it," Miles deadpanned, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "The villagers thought I was sent there by some sort of strange magic, so you can imagine I had a heck of a time trying to explain the side effects of pork rinds to them."

"Man, and I thought _I_ had it bad!" Helga laughed. "I mean, sure, I slept walked _here,_ but at least I was in my pyjamas! Even if I was caught out by a certain someone, who I won't mention." She threw a pointed look in Arnold's direction, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"So _that's_ what you were doing on my fire escape that night!" Arnold exclaimed. "You were sleep walking?" he asked, surprised.

"Doi, _of course_ I was sleep walking!" Helga exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration. "You think I would have come here if I risked getting caught?"

"I think I'll leave you two to it," Stella said quickly. "Come on, Miles, let's save you from any more embarrassment, shall we?"

"Gee, thanks," Miles chuckled, before he placed a tender arm around his wife's shoulders, before leading her out of the room, clicking the door shut behind them.

As soon as the couple were out of earshot, Helga quickly shot her bemused friend a narrow glance.

"We do _not_ need to discuss this," she said stubbornly, crossing her arms firmly in front of her chest.

"I'm not saying we do," Arnold said gently, holding his hands up to placate her. "But I don't know why you couldn't tell me."

Helga snorted. "If I told you _everything_ I've done over the years, you'd run away and never look back," she said quietly, looking up at Arnold through the tips of her eyelashes.

"Come on, Helga, you _know_ that isn't true," Arnold assured her kindly, reaching out to take her hand, which stilled at the sudden contact, but she made no move to pull away from him, despite the discomfiture on her face. "I mean, I didn't run when you showed me your shrine, did I?" he asked, throwing her a comforting smile.

Helga's face reddened. "Well… no," she admitted timidly. "B… but you should have!" she suddenly snapped, causing a violent cough to protrude from her lungs.

"Here," Arnold said kindly, passing the girl a glass of water, who despite the irritation she was currently feeling, immediately accepted the gesture and drank cautiously, quickly quelling the painful action.

"T… thanks," Helga croaked, clearing her throat in the process.

Arnold gave her a sad smile. "Helga, do you _really_ think I'd stop wanting to be your friend just because of a few things you've done-?"

"A few?"

" _Helga._ "

"Sorry."

Heaving a sigh, Arnold squeezed Helga's hand in reassurance causing the eleven year to nervously glance up.

"Alright, fine, so you've done a lot of weird things," Arnold admitted, " _but,"_ he continued, emphasising the word greatly upon seeing Helga was about to argue, "that doesn't mean I think _you're_ weird. What is it you told me that your psychologist told you?" he said, frowning thoughtfully. "That you were just creatively expressing yourself in a way that didn't harm anyone? Well, she's right," Arnold smiled. "I mean, some of those poems of yours were amazing!" He glanced at her uncertainly. "Are you still writing them?"

Helga's eyes widened in horror.

 _Oh, no, please don't say what I think you're going to say!_

"Oh, no, Helga _,_ you've got it all wrong!" Arnold said quickly, causing Helga to breathe a sigh of relief. "I was only asking because I haven't seen any in a while, that's all."

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean… you _want_ to read more of my poems?" she asked hesitantly.

"Sure!" Arnold said readily, throwing the girl a bright smile. "I mean, if you want to, that is."

 _Well, that was unexpected!_

"Well… s… sure," Helga stuttered. "I mean, whatever floats your boat Hair Boy. But you have to promise not to tell _anyone_ about them, not even Gerald!" she said sharply, pointing a finger menacingly under the boy's nose. "You got that?!"

"You know I won't, Helga," Arnold said coolly, gently enclosing his own hand over Helga's, before bringing it back down upon the bed covers. "You don't need to threaten me."

"Sorry," Helga said sheepishly, before she suddenly barked out another cough.

"Oh, for pete's sake!" she exclaimed irritably, turning her head away so as not to cough her germs all over Arnold, who had yet to move an inch despite the close proximity.

"It might be the cold air," Arnold remarked, with a vague glance towards the window. "It's been snowing for the past few hours."

"It has?!" Helga quickly turned her attention towards the shut-up window where a flurry of light snow could be seen drifting past the window into the alley beside them. "When the heck did that start?!" she exclaimed, with a wild gesture towards the snow fall outside. "I've been practically glued to that window all day!"

Arnold chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't _exactly_ call it snow," he admitted. "It's more like sleet. Not much is sticking to the ground anyway."

"How long has it been going on for?" Helga asked.

"A few hours, I think?" Arnold guessed. "There isn't much to it, but it's pretty consistent. I don't think it'll stick around, though, but Phoebe and Gerald weren't taking the risk."

"Taking the risk for what?" Helga asked, before quickly turning away to bark out another cough.

"Oh, Phoebe and Gerald were going to come over this afternoon to see how you were," Arnold explained with a smile. "But they didn't want to risk being caught in snow later on. If the weather's alright tomorrow, they might drop in, though. If that's alright with you of course?" He turned to Helga with an enquiring glance.

Helga shrugged. "Hey, if they don't mind catching my germs, they're welcome to come," she said. "Although it's safe to say Gerald's only coming because Phoebe wants him too," she grinned.

Arnold frowned. "What do you mean?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Football Head, do you really think Gerald would come of his own accord? I mean, we both know he only tolerates me because of you and Pheebs."

"We both know that isn't true, Helga," Arnold said kindly. "He's really getting to know you."

Helga shrugged. "Eh," she said dryly. "If anything, he's fun to mess with."

"Yeah, I noticed," Arnold said wryly, throwing the girl a lopsided grin. "I don't know who's worse, you or him."

"Hey, you give it, you take it," Helga remarked casually. "And I can give it with the best of them."

"Even when you're sick by the looks of things," Arnold chuckled. "You're starting to sound like your old self."

"Not without a lot of effort, believe me," Helga muttered. "I'm still pretty sure I've been hit by a truck… followed by a bus," she added wearily.

"I believe you," Arnold said sympathetically, taking note of the dark circles underneath the girl's eyes. "How's your fever?"

"Up and down like a yo-yo," Helga replied, stifling a yawn. "It went up to 101 when I didn't take a nap this morning, but went back down to 100 before you came home. Not sure what'd it be now." She took a quick glance towards the clock, now reading 4:30, before stretching out with an uncomfortable groan.

"I am so _sick_ of being stuck in bed all day," she drawled. "I don't think I've seen any other part of the house except here and the bathroom since _Wednesday_." She stretched out her legs. "And my legs are _killing_ me."

"Just be patient, Helga," Arnold assured her. "You'll be out of here soon enough."

"How does tonight sound?" came Stella's voice from the doorway causing the two kids heads to swivel towards her. "I mean, if you're up for it, you can join us for dinner tonight if you want, Helga?"

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "But… I'm still contagious, aren't I?"

"Well… yes and no," Stella admitted hesitantly. "But if you stay up the end of the table with me, Arnold and Miles, there's less of a chance of infection. But you can't stay cooped up in here until all your symptoms are gone. It wouldn't be fair. So, what do you say?" she asked, throwing the eleven year old a questioning glance. "Do you feel up to it or would you prefer to stay in bed?"

"Heck no!" Helga exclaimed, throwing the woman a grateful smile. "If it means being able to get out of this darn bed for a little while, I'm all for it!"

"Just let me check your temperature first, hon," Stella said with a smile. "If it's still low, you can get out of bed, but if it's back up, I'd prefer you to stay put."

"That seems fair," Helga admitted as Stella placed the thermometer into the girl's ear, and within moments, the device beeped and pulling it out, Helga watched hopefully as the woman nodded approvingly.

"99.5," she said, throwing Helga a cheerful smile. "Your fever hasn't _quite_ broken, but it's close enough."

"Thank goodness for that," Helga said. "So… can I get up now?" she asked hopefully, making a move to peel back the blankets upon her bed.

Stella shook her head. "Not yet," she said. "Wait until I call you for dinner and _then_ you can get out of bed. I don't want you to tire yourself out too quickly."

Helga sighed. "Yeah, fair enough," she acknowledged.

"It's for your own good, honey," Stella said gently, running a tender hand through Helga's messy blonde locks. "If you get up too soon, your body is going to tire out very quickly and then you'll just be back to square one."

"Oh, that's a joy," Helga said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But okay, I'll wait until dinnertime."

"It's not far off, Helga," Arnold assured her kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "We always eat at 6. And don't worry about passing anything on to us," he added quickly. "I'm pretty sure if we were going to catch it, we would have it by now, wouldn't we, mom?" He turned a glance toward her.

"Well, if you feel alright by tomorrow, we _should_ be in the clear," Stella said hopefully. "But I think it'll be okay." She turned to the two kids with a smile. "Anyway, I don't think most of the boarders will mind having you around anyway. They've all been wondering how you are."

" _Most_?" Helga asked in amusement.

"Mr Kakoshka's been staying well clear of anywhere you've been," Arnold explained with a roll of his eyes. "And when he walks past your room, he covers his mouth and runs. We keep telling him he won't catch it that way, but he won't be told."

"I wouldn't worry about Oscar," Stella said dryly. "He'd complain even if you were on the other side of the _street_."

Helga laughed. "Believe me, I doubt Bob would be much better if I was at home."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about it," Stella assured her gently, before she turned to her son with a small smile. "6pm, honey."

"Sure, mom," Arnold said, throwing her a bright smile before she took her leave.

"I better fix up my hair before I go out there," Helga chuckled, reaching up to feel the bird's nest that was her hair. Or at least that's what it felt like to her anyway. "But I'm not doing anything else."

"I don't think anyone will really care, Helga," Arnold said, watching as she pulled her long hair up into a high ponytail, which jostled the tiny blue hat still was still nestled on her head.

"Oops," Helga said, feeling for the bobby pin that held the hat in place and locating it under her hair, she gently pulled it out, along with the other, before half-heartedly handing it to Arnold.

"You don't have to give it back yet if you don't want too," Arnold said, pushing the item back towards her. "I don't mind."

"No… it's okay," Helga assured him gently. "I mean, you only gave it to me for safe keeping, didn't ya?" she chuckled. "And well, you're home now!" She reached up to place the hat back on the boy's irregular shaped head. "There, looks better on you anyway," she said casually, although there was no mistaking the disappointment in her tone.

Arnold sighed. "Whatever you say, Helga," he said gently. "But, you know-" he continued, giving her a soft smile, "-no would say anything if you wore it around here, Helga. I mean, they know I like you." He flushed brightly at the words, as did Helga, whose face turned a bright shade of crimson at the comment.

"And… and be laughed at for it?!" Helga exclaimed tetchily. "No thanks!" Upon seeing Arnold's crestfallen look, though, the girl softened. "But thanks F…. I mean, Arnold," she added softly, throwing him a grateful smile. " _A lot_ ," she said pointedly, with her face burning brightly. "It… it helped."

Arnold smiled. "You're welcome," he said warmly, reaching out to take her hand once more. "Anytime you want to borrow it, just ask. I don't mind."

"Hey, if you're offering, why would I refuse?" Helga quipped, causing Arnold to chuckle in reply.

"Because you're Helga?" Arnold guessed. "And I never know _what_ you're going to do?"

Helga snorted. "Oh, shut it, Football Head," she muttered. "At least I'm not boring!"

"I don't think boring has _ever_ related to you," Arnold grinned, causing Helga to inadvertently blush.

"Are you _trying_ to bring my fever back?" Helga said irritably in an effort to hide her embarrassment. "Because, I gotta say, Football Head, you're doing a pretty good job!" She chuckled blushingly.

Arnold grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Helga," he said quickly. "I was just trying to keep your mind off how you feel. I mean, it worked pretty well last night."

Helga groaned. "We are _never_ mentioning Cecile again," she said forcefully. "You got that?! I only told you because you _forced_ it out of me."

Arnold frowned. "I didn't force it out of you," he said. "I just mentioned something you said sounded like a friend of mine, and you just burst it out. I never did anything."

"Me and my big mouth," Helga mumbled.

Arnold smiled. "Helga, I'm _glad_ you told me," he admitted, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head bashfully. "At least I know now who I had a crush on all that time. And now that I think about it-" he continued, with a quick glance at Helga's ponytailed hair, "-I can't believe I never figured it out before. I mean, there's not _that_ much of a difference."

Helga snorted. "Suck up."

"Well, I don't see it that way," Arnold said, throwing her a kind smile. "I'm just telling it like I see it. And what I see is a wonderful girl who has done a lot of nice things without even wanting credit, all in an effort to hide how she felt."

"Yeah, well, I'm an incredible person," Helga replied casually, all the while her heart was beating wildly in her chest.

"Well, I think you are," Arnold said warmly. "I mean, there's no way I could have hidden how I feel about someone for almost eight years."

"Believe me," Helga chuckled, "I still wonder that myself, Arnoldo."

"And you don't regret it?" Arnold asked curiously.

 _Regret it?_ Helga thought. _Are you kidding me? I'm over the hill, head over heels in love with you, of course I don't regret it! To be able to talk to you without insulting you, to hold your hand, to hear your kind words, is the best thing that's ever happened to me!_

Unable to voice these thoughts, though, Helga just threw him a soft smile.

"No," she replied honestly. "I mean, sure, it's still taking some getting used to, and I still don't want everyone to know all our business, but I don't regret it. Your parents needed our help and that's all that mattered. I just happened to get you as a b… f…friend in the bargain!" She swallowed nervously at the slip up.

 _Oh crimeny, why did I have to go and almost blab that again! What do you want to do, scare the Football Head off?!_

"Helga," Arnold said softly, causing Helga to flick her eyes towards the boy's caring face. "You know, if you want to call me your… your boyfriend, I really don't mind," he said twisting his hands around in his lap nervously. "I mean, we pretty much are, aren't we?"

Helga's eyes widened incredulously.

 _Did he just say what I think he said?!_

"Do… do you really mean that?" she asked tentatively, uncertain she had heard correctly.

Arnold smiled. "Well… sure," he said simply. "I mean, I know we're just kids, so it's not really official, but we still call each other that, can't we?"

"I… I guess," Helga admitted, her brain still processing the situation.

"Well, we don't _have_ too," Arnold insisted, taking her lack of communication for uncertainty. "We can just be friends if you want. I don't mind either way. Just as long as you don't go back to picking on me, that's all I-"

"No, it… it's fine," Helga asserted, her face breaking into the brightest smile Arnold had ever seen. "I… I just never really expected you to want to say it, that's all. Not yet anyway."

"Well, if you don't mind, I don't mind," Arnold stated.

"Well, the cat's already out of the bag, isn't it?" Helga said dryly. "Miss Priss quickly took care of that after we went back to school. No point in hiding it. But that still doesn't mean I want to go around flouting it everywhere!" Helga said forcefully, throwing the boy a pointed glance. "I still have a reputation, you know!"

"If that's what you want, Helga," Arnold said agreeably, before he flicked his eyes quickly towards the clock by the window.

"It's almost six," he said, with a quick glance back towards Helga. "Do you want to go and sit down?"

"Anything to get me out of here," Helga said gratefully, peeling back the covers, before gently sliding out of bed, where she wobbled a little unsteadily on her feet, but remained upright.

"Guess that's what happens when you don't get out of bed much for three days," she muttered as Arnold came around to place a comfortingly arm around her shoulders, which to his surprise, she didn't throw off.

"You'll get better once you start moving around a bit more," Arnold pointed out as he and Helga made their way to the dining room. "Your body's just a bit weak, that's all."

"No duh," Helga drawled, as she and Arnold walked into the dining room, where everyone was already seated.

"Well, look who's out of bed!" Phil exclaimed cheerfully, upon noticing the two kids entering the room. "How you feeling, sweetheart?" he asked as Helga and Arnold sat on the opposite side of the table. "You doing better?"

"Sort of," Helga replied, throwing the elderly man a small smile. "I mean, I still feel like I've been hit by a bus, but I'm getting there at least."

"Hey, hey, who let her in here?" Oscar asked rudely, pointing his fork towards the girl. "She's still contagious… I could catch the influenza!"

"Oh, Oscar, knock it off!" Suzy snapped, swatting her husband's hand in annoyance. "You're not going to catch anything with her just being in the room. Leave the poor thing alone!" She glanced over at Helga with a small smile. "I'm glad to see you up and about, honey."

"Thanks," Helga replied gratefully, before quickly turning her head in order to cough into her sleeve.

"Ah huh, you see!" Oscar exclaimed obnoxiously, gesturing back towards Helga. "She's spreading her germs! I'm going to get very sick, I know I am!" He reached up to feel his forehead. "I think I'm already starting to feel warm."

"Good," Ernie said impatiently, with a roll of his eyes. "For our sake, I hope you _do_ catch it. Might shut you up for a while at least." He turned to Helga with a reassuring smile. "Just ignore him."

"Oh, yeah, sure, ignore me!" Oscar replied, causing a collective groan around the table. "But you'll all be sorry if I get sick too!"

"Oh, Oscar, please be quiet!" Mr Hyuhn exclaimed irritably. "Young Helga is allowed to be here if she feels up to it. Leave her alone."

"My thoughts exactly," Phil said irascibly. "Oscar, if you're so afraid of being around Helga, then leave. There's nothing stopping you!"

"But then I'll be on my own," the man whined.

"Good, then maybe we'll get some peace," Ernie mumbled.

"I heard that!"

"Too bad it doesn't shut you up, though."

"Alright, that's enough," Stella said firmly, coming into the dining room to see what was going on. "Oscar, if you're so worried about being around Helga, then go back to your room. If not, just stay where you are."

Oscar crossed his arms in front of his chest huffily. "Fine."

"Sorry about Mr Kososhka, Helga," Arnold whispered sheepishly as a new conversation sprung up around them. "He's always like this."

"You could have a headache and Oscar would believe he's caught it," Miles chuckled, leaning over the two kids to place a few dishes on the table. "Don't mind him."

Helga shrugged. "Doesn't bother me," she admitted, reaching out to take a spoonful of vegetables. "I think I know what he's like by now."

"You be sure to take some more vegetables, Eleanor!" Gertie exclaimed cheerfully as she noticed where Helga's hand was situated. "We've got to get you back to the White House!"

Helga chuckled. "Can do, Mrs Shortman."

"Be careful not to overload yourself _to_ much, Helga," Stella said, with a glance towards the young girl's plate. "You haven't eaten much over the past few days and the last thing we need is for you to shock your stomach."

"Don't worry, I won't," Helga assured her as she placed a tiny bit of chicken onto her plate. "I don't think I could eat a lot if I tried." She glanced down at her plate uncertainly. "Actually, I think I might have taken a bit _too_ much," she admitted.

"Don't worry about it, Helga, just eat as much as you can," Miles said gently, before his wife could speak. "The rest just goes to Abner anyway."

Helga snorted. "Sounds like the pig eats just as good as the rest of us."

Arnold laughed. "Sometimes better!"

Helga grinned. "Man, that's typical, isn't it?" She shook her head in amusement. "I have to admit, this is heaps better than dinner's back home. I mean, it wasn't all that great before we moved into the stupid store, but now it's even worse."

"So, there's no change on that front, Helga?" Stella asked gently. "Is your dad still not getting many sales?"

Helga snorted. "He's lucky if he sells one a week," the eleven-year-old scoffed. "But he still won't get it through his thick skill that beepers are over! And yet I'm still forced to help him sell the stupid things."

"Has he tried contacting the hospital?" Miles asked curiously, overhearing the conversation. "They still use beepers. And if he could get a contract with them, he'd get a decent sum maybe."

Helga shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted, with a thoughtful frown. "I mean, he probably has."

"I'd ask him about it," Miles said. "Because hospitals could always do with some more. But if they don't need any, I might be able to pull some strings."

"What do you mean, dad?" Arnold asked him curiously.

"Well, your mother and I know of a few hospitals in San Lorenzo that could always do with some help," Miles explained. "And I know they would probably be grateful for a number of beepers to help them run more efficiently. If you like, I could have a talk with your dad next week sometime," he said, turning his attention to Helga, whose eyes were wide in surprise.

"Well… yeah," Helga said. "I mean, I guess if it would help, it wouldn't hurt to ask. But don't expect much," she added quickly. "Bob is the most stubborn man you'll ever meet. And he won't be grateful even if he does accept," she scoffed.

"I'll take my chances," Miles assured her, throwing her a soft smile. "If it does anything to help, I'll be happy to do it."

"Well… okay," Helga said slowly. "I mean, whatever floats your boat."

"I'll have a talk with him when I drop you back home in a few days," Miles said. "I mean, it can't hurt."

"You wanna bet?" Helga muttered, just as Miles turned his attention to another conversation.

"You okay, Helga?" Arnold asked the girl worriedly.

Helga shrugged. "I guess," she said quietly. "But I already know my dad won't listen."

"You never know, Helga," Arnold said gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on hers. "He might. I mean, what has he got to lose?"

"Try his pride," Helga scoffed, with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, maybe," Arnold said quietly, before he suddenly turned to Helga with a bright smile. "Hey, what do you say if we went up to my room to watch a movie after dinner?" he asked. "Just you and me."

"I'd say you've got yourself a date, Football Head," Helga grinned. "That is, if you don't mind a germy one anyway."

"I've been around you all afternoon," Arnold pointed out. "I don't think a few more hours will make much difference."

"Movie night it is, then," Helga said with a smile in his direction. "Just as long as you don't choose something dumb anyway," she scoffed.

"Why don't you choose, then?" Arnold asked her.

"Fine with me," she replied contentedly, before turning her attention back to the food in front of her, which she found she was picking at more than eating, after eating only a small amount. Although her stomach was calm, the eleven-year-old found she wasn't nearly as hungry as she thought she was and her exhaustion only became more prevalent as the meal wore on and the conversations began to dwell; and by seven, Helga began to find herself yawning.

"Helga?" Arnold's voice startled the girl back to reality. "Helga, are you okay? You look like you're about to fall asleep."

"I'm just tired, that's all," Helga said wearily as she felt her eyes grow heavier by the minute.

"Maybe you should go to bed, then," Arnold said worriedly, taking note of the dark circles under the girl's eyes. "We can watch the movie tomorrow night."

"N… no, I'm alright!" Helga insisted, sitting up straighter in her seat. "It's only because I've just eaten. I'll be alright in a minute."

"Arnold's right, Helga," Stella said apprehensively. "I mean, you're only just starting to improve. Maybe it's best if you went to bed."

 _And miss spending a few hours alone with Arnold? Fat chance!_

"I'll be alright," Helga said stubbornly. "I mean, we're only sitting around watching a movie. I don't think I'm going to tire myself out just doing that."

"Are you sure, Helga?" Arnold asked her worriedly.

Helga rolled her eyes.

"Crimeny, I said I'm _fine_ , Football Head!" she exclaimed. "Stop worrying!"

Arnold sighed. There was no point in arguing.

"Alright, let's go, then," he said, standing up from the table and holding out a hand towards her. "You can pick the movie," he smiled.

"Fine with me," she said, swiftly getting up out of her seat, before following Arnold out of the room, where she quickly stopped as a coughing fit overtook her.

"Argh! Get me away from here!" Oscar exclaimed, getting up out of his seat faster than the rest of the boarders had ever seen him move, before rushing out with his arm covering his face.

"Well, that's one way to get rid of him," Ernie said cheerfully. He turned to Helga with a proud grin. "Thanks sweetheart!"

Helga grinned. "Good to know I'm useful for something at least," she said, before another cough overtook her.

"Here," Stella said quickly, passing a bottle of water over to Arnold. "Make sure to take that with you. I think she'll need it."

"I'm good," Helga said croakily as she emerged from the crook of her sleeve. "It's just a tickle."

"Doesn't hurt to have a bottle of water with us anyway," Arnold said, holding up the object in his hand. "Come on." He held out his hand for Helga to take, which she swiftly ignored, before making her way up to the upper level.

 _Man, I have got to stop doing that!_ She thought, upon noticing the crestfallen expression upon the boy's face. _That's it, Helga._ _No more!_

"Come on, slow poke," Helga chuckled, holding out her own hand for the boy to take. "I don't want to be up all night."

Arnold beamed. "I don't think you'll have much chance if your body has anything to say about it," he said, taking her offered hand as they entered the room. "You'll probably be lucky to last the whole movie."

"I wouldn't try me if I were you," Helga grinned. "That sounds like a challenge."

Arnold raised his eyebrows. " _Helga,"_ he warned.

"Sheesh, I'm just kidding," Helga said. "Now, what are we going to watch?" She glanced around for a DVD collection, and finding it on a bookshelf, made her way over to it.

"Man, you've certainly got a mix, don't ya, Football Head?" she noted, scanning through the DVD's that were sitting on the shelf.

"Well, I don't like just one genre, you know?" Arnold said, coming up to join her. "I have everything from Disney to blood and gore. Which I really don't think is such a good idea right now," he added quickly, seeing the hesitant look upon the girl's face.

"Yeah, usually I'm only too happy with a good old blood and gore movie, but not right now," Helga admitted, chuckling sheepishly. "The last thing I need is to barf my guts up again." Biting her lip thoughtfully, she reached out for a movie, causing Arnold to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Huh, I never took you for the Disney Princess type," he said.

"Yeah, well, I didn't take you for one either," Helga countered, throwing the boy an amused look.

Arnold shrugged. "I don't exactly class Beauty and the Beast as one to be honest," he admitted, gesturing to the movie in Helga's hand. "Only a lot of the older ones like Snow White and Cinderella," he said. "Which _aren't_ my taste."

"Yeah, they aren't mine either," Helga admitted, with a look of disgust. "I mean, who wants to see prissy princesses sitting around waiting for someone to rescue them?"

"Well, I don't think they're _quite_ that bad," Arnold admitted. "They're just not my taste." He gestured to the movie in Helga's hand. "So, you're sure you want to watch that one?" he asked.

"Eh, why not?" Helga said, handing the boy the DVD. "I haven't watched it in a while, and it doesn't go for hours either."

"Fair enough," Arnold said as he placed the DVD into his laptop, which was situated on a table in front of the fold out couch, before hitting play on the screen.

"Can you see it from there?" he asked her as the two kids sat down.

"Clear as a bell," Helga said, bringing her legs up onto the couch for a more comfortable position, where Arnold swiftly draped a blanket over them, before sitting beside her. She threw him a narrowed glance.

"Oh, come on, I'm not _that_ sick!" Helga exclaimed irritably.

"You shouldn't take the chance, though, Helga," Arnold said, unfazed by the annoyed look being thrown his way. "Especially when it's cold. Besides-" he continued, gesturing to his lap where a blanket was also covering his own body, "-I've got one too."

"Of course you do," Helga muttered, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's kindness, despite the fact that she was inwardly swooning.

 _Oh Arnold. How noble you are to give me a blanket. Oh, how you make my heart shudder with your kindness my love! Oh!_

"Helga, are you okay?" Arnold's voice cut through Helga's reverie.

"Huh?" Helga glanced over at Arnold to find he was looking at her uncertainly.

 _Shoot, I must have look dazed. Keep it together, old girl!_

She scoffed. "Well, of course I'm alright!" she snapped. "Sheesh, can't a girl watch a movie in peace?!"

Arnold sighed. "Whatever you say, Helga," he said, before turning back to the movie, where the first song had begun to play.

 _Urgh! Why do I always do that!_ Helga chastised herself.

Heaving a sigh, Helga got herself into a more comfortable position and began to watch the movie intently, only glancing away every now and then to look at Arnold, who was watching it almost as intently as she was. Well, so much for a 'date' night.

Several minutes passed, and just as Be Our Guest was being played on the screen, Helga suddenly jumped as she felt Arnold nervously wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks, causing her to instantly still.

 _Is this really happening? My beloved has wrapped his arm around me while watching a movie. Pinch me, I must be dreaming!_

"H… hey!" Helga exclaimed suddenly. "Who said you could do that?!"

"S… sorry, Helga!" Arnold said nervously, quickly removing his arm from around the girl's shoulders. "I… I just-"

Helga grinned. "I'm just messing with ya," she said, causing Arnold to heave a sigh of relief.

"That wasn't very nice, Helga!" Arnold chastised, although there was no mistaking the smile on his lips as he returned his arm back around the girl's shoulders. They both blushed brightly.

"Y… yeah, well, don't expect it all the time, Arnoldo!" Helga exclaimed, although her tone was nowhere near as fierce as usual. "Now, can we get back to the movie?"

Arnold swept a courteous hand towards the screen.

Helga rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks."

Returning her attention to the movie, Helga found her heart beating a million miles an hour in her chest as Arnolds's arm continued to remain around her shoulders, a difficult feat when she happened to be taller than him. In order to better achieve this position, Helga found herself wriggling down into a more comfortable position, leaning against Arnold's side as the movie went on, her head just inches away from the boy's shoulder. Exhaustion began to claim her as the night went on and before long, the eleven-year-old found herself leaning her head against the boy's shoulder as that tiredness began to claim her.

"You okay, Helga?" Arnold said quietly, blushing brightly at the contact.

She nodded. "I'm just tired."

"Do you want me to stop the movie?"

Glancing towards the screen, where the ballroom scene was about to play, she shook her head.

"I'm good."

"Alright then."

Turning her attention back to the screen, Helga found her eyes slowly beginning to feel heavy as the classic song of the movie began to play, causing exhaustion to crash over her in a sudden heap. Nestling herself comfortably into Arnold's shoulder, Helga closed her eyes, listening to the music play in the background.

The last thing she heard was the final notes of the song being played before sleep came to claim her.

* * *

 _I was originally intending to use The Princess Bride as the movie the two of them watched, but unfortunately, I've never actually seen it, so I couldn't have written anything about it accurately, so I used my favourite Disney movie instead, which I thought even the kids would both like, despite what I believe would be Helga's thoughts on the older ones! As for how they watched it, I actually wasn't quite sure what time period the movie was actually set in, considering there was differing technologies and all, so I just used what I saw in the movie mainly considering Helga had a laptop and Rhonda had an Iphone and all._

 _So, as you can see Helga and Arnold's relationship is slowly beginning to improve and this will keep going now until the end. I'd been waiting to write the movie scene for a little while and I'm glad it turned out, even if it was simple. I also really enjoyed the banter between the boarders which I'd also been waiting patiently to write!_

 _As you probably would have noticed in this chapter as well, I've thrown out a hint about possibly getting Helga and her family out of current situation which I'm doing mostly for her. I was quite saddened by the fact the poor girl is stuck living at the store so I want to at least try to remedy that in my canon. Hospitals do still use beepers/pagers so I have no idea why Bob hasn't thought about that._

 _Ok, so next chapter should be up in a few weeks if all goes well and it will start to wrap up the story. Before you leave this chapter, though, please_ _ **DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_ _Once again, though, please remember that_ _ **I DO NOT TOLERATE FLAMES**_ _, although I am fine with_ _ **KIND**_ _, constructive criticism._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	4. Recovery

_Looks like I managed to write and post this on time for once. And that doesn't happen very often with me!_

 _Ok, so this chapter mainly just wraps up the storyline of Helga being sick and takes place over both days of the weekend and when she goes home. The final part will take place a few weeks later at Christmas. Helga starts to open up a little bit more in this chapter so her and Arnold are in a real nice place which I think suits them quite well. It's also fairly long again which I apologise for._

 _Also, once again, please be aware I don't own the movie mentioned in this chapter, let alone have seen it, I'm just using the kids personalities as to how I think they'd react to the movie._

 _Also, please note in this chapter that while I previously used the Australian spelling of mom which was 'mum', I have now gone and changed it to the proper American spelling. I finally clicked that the reason no one in my previous stories in the httyd fandom were bothered by the spelling was because in httyd, the characters are Vikings, so it didn't matter, while Arnold and the others live in modern America. I apologise for the spelling confusion._

 _Ok, on with the chapter!_

* * *

Chapter 4 – Recovery

* * *

 _Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold!_

"What the heck?!"

Startled from her sleep, Helga shot bolt upright, searching wildly around for the source of the intrusion to her slumber, only to tumble onto the ground in a heap with her blankets twisted all around her.

"Ow."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Helga!" Arnold's frantic voice suddenly met Helga's ears. "I must have forgotten to turn that off!"

"Turn what off?" Helga asked bewildered as Arnold appeared beside her, his hand outstretched. "What _was_ that?" Taking hold of the boy's hand, Helga half lifted herself off the ground with a slight groan.

"My alarm," Arnold explained, brandishing a hand towards the object. "I must have forgotten to switch it off last night. I'm so sorry," he apologised, throwing the girl a sheepish expression.

"Oh, that thing," Helga mumbled, shooting the clock a narrow glance. "Well, I guess that's one way to wake someone up."

"I'm _so_ sorry, Helga," Arnold repeated, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I should have checked to see the alarm was off."

"Eh, don't worry about it, Football Head," Helga said, waving the boy's concerns off. "It wasn't your fault." She squinted towards the clock. "What time is it anyway?" she asked. "I don't even remember going to sleep."

"Just after 7," Arnold answered promptly, with a quick glance towards the alarm. "You fell asleep on my shoulder during the movie last night, remember?" He flushed brightly as he said it. "Mom thought it would be easier to just let you sleep here last night."

"Man, I must have slept like a baby if I've out for that long," Helga chuckled, sitting back down upon her makeshift bed. "I mean, it wasn't that late last night."

"Barely 8:30," Arnold confirmed. "And yeah, you must have been out of it, because you never even moved when mom tucked you into bed or when I tried to move your head off my shoulder."

"Believe me, it doesn't surprise me," Helga said dryly, emitting a small yawn. "I still feel like I could sleep for a week."

"Mom said you'll feel like that for a few more days," Arnold said softly, sitting down beside her. "Which _means_ -" he threw the eleven-year-old a pointed glance, "-you shouldn't be pushing yourself."

Helga rolled her eyes. "Why don't you just rub it in, Football Head?"

"Sorry," he said quickly. "I'm just trying to help."

Helga sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she muttered. "I'm just getting sick of being cooped up all the time."

"Well, if you just do what your body tells you, you'll be better in no time," Arnold smiled. "And _then_ you can do what you want. Which includes staying up to watch movies," he added with a grin in her direction. "Don't want you falling asleep on my shoulder again, do we?" he chuckled.

"Hey, that was no cake walk, I assure you," Helga remarked stubbornly, in an effort to hide her blush. "You're not exactly as comfortable as you might think, Football Head."

Unfazed by the girl's brashness, Arnold grinned. "And you think your head is?" he asked coolly.

Helga snorted. "Touché, Football Head, touché."

 _Darn it, Football Head, stop beating me at my old game! Good comeback, though._

"Well, since we're up, do you want to go and have breakfast?" Arnold asked, effectively pulling Helga out of her thoughts. "Mom will probably want to check your temperature."

"If I still have a fever, I can't really tell," Helga admitted, bringing a hand up to her forehead. "I'm more tired than anything."

"Well, we'll just check anyway," Arnold said as he and Helga made their way downstairs. "But I think you should be right."

"Maybe from the fever," Helga mumbled, barking out the familiar cough as they entered the dining room. "This cough has moved in for an extended stay, though."

"Oh, no, not again!" Oscar exclaimed as soon as the two kids entered the room. "I was very lucky not to have caught the germs last night!"

"Hey Oscar, how about you do us all a favour and be quiet?" Phil retorted impatiently, before anyone else could speak. "Or else I'll make sure the girl coughs on you and then you'll _really_ have something to complain about."

"Alright, alright, you don't have to be so huffy, Gramps!" Oscar said irritably, grabbing his cereal bowl, before making his way out, but not before giving Helga a narrowed glance in the process.

Helga snorted. "Looks like I'm still popular," she noted, watching as Oscar made his way out of the room.

"Oh, just ignore him, sweetheart," Phil said, waving her concerns off. "We all do." He threw the girl a small smile. "How ya feeling this morning?"

"Better than I did last night," Helga admitted, sitting down in a seat beside him. "But I don't think I'll be running any marathons any time soon."

"I'll never understand people who think that is fun," Phil mumbled, with a shake of his head.

Helga chuckled. "You and me both, Gramps."

"So, are you ready to get back on duty there, Eleanor?" Gertie asked curiously, throwing the girl a bright smile. "Or do we need another few days of respite yet?"

"Well, I'm not quite ready to be running a country any time soon, that's for sure," Helga grinned. "Running a movie marathon might be my limit right now."

"Just as long as you're getting your rest there, darlin', I don't think it matters," Gertie said sincerely. "You just make sure you're ready to go back to the anarchy that is home."

"Man, she got my family right on point," Helga said quietly, reaching over to grab a few strips of bacon from the platter in front of her.

"Helga," Arnold said quietly, with a glance between her and his grandmother. "I never thought to ask before, but, do you know why my Grandma calls you that?"

"What? Eleanor?" Helga asked. She grinned sheepishly. "Um… yeah… do you remember that story I told you last month about trying to get back my locket from your Grandpa a few years back?"

Arnold frowned. "Yeah….?" he said slowly, wondering where this was going.

Helga flushed. "Yeah, well, in the process of getting it back, I was sort of… caught. By your Grandma," she elaborated, seeing the bewildered expression on her boyfriend's face grow larger. "And for some reason she called me Eleanor, and well, since then, it sort of… well… stuck, I guess."

Arnold grinned. "Well, I guess _that_ explains things," he said. "Is there any other moments you wish to share with me?" he asked, his tone amused.

"None that I wish to share right now," Helga deadpanned, before barking out another unexpected cough.

"I thought I heard your coughing, Helga," Stella said, coming into the room. "It's good to see you awake so early."

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't be if it wasn't for a certain alarm clock," Helga replied, throwing the boy beside her a pointed glance. " _Somebody_ forgot to turn it off."

"I didn't mean it," Arnold said sheepishly, seeing his mother's amused look.

"Personally, I think it might have been a good idea," Stella admitted as she produced the thermometer from her pocket. "I mean, there is such a thing as sleeping _too_ much, even when you're sick. And you were out like a light pretty early last night, hon," she said, throwing a glance in the eleven-year old's direction.

Helga snorted. "Don't I know it," she said, holding still for the thermometer which was being placed in her ear. "I still can't believe I slept through the whole night."

"Actually, I can't either," Arnold admitted as they waited for the little device to beep. "I even turned on the light at about two this morning to use the bathroom and you _still_ didn't move."

Helga chuckled. "Man, I must have dead to the world," she joshed.

"Well, it must have been a good thing," Stella said thankfully, glancing down at the beeping device firmly in her hand. "98.5," she clarified, seeing the kid's anxious expressions. "Your fever has officially broken."

" _Finally_ ," Helga said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Does that mean I don't have to take any more of that medicine?" she asked hopefully.

Stella laughed. "You're officially in the clear," she confirmed.

"Thank goodness for that," Helga said dryly. "If anything was going to make me start barfing again, it was that stuff." She coughed loudly. "Or that," she added croakily as another coughing fit took over her lungs.

"Well, you may be in the clear for the Tylenol, but not the cough medicine it seems," Stella said sympathetically. "I'll be right back."

"Swell," Helga said hoarsely, once the coughing fit had passed. "If it's not the fever getting to me, it's the cough."

"That'll pass eventually, Helga, don't worry," Arnold said gently, passing a glass of water over to the girl. "But it's usually the last thing to go."

"Yeah, I know," Helga grumbled, before she glanced down at the plate in front of her. She sighed. "I'm not sure if I want this after all," she said, eyeing off the small amount of bacon and eggs upon the plate.

"Do you want some oatmeal instead, Helga?" Miles asked her, glancing up at her from across the table. "Bacon and eggs might still be a bit much for you."

Glancing down at the food in front of her, Helga sighed.

"Yeah, that might be better," she admitted, pushing the plate away. "Thanks Miles."

"No problem, Helga," Miles said softly, standing up to take her plate away. "I'll just go and get you some."

"Are you okay, Helga?" Arnold asked nervously. "You don't feel sick again, do you?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine, Football Head," Helga assured him quickly, throwing the boy a small smile. "I'm just not in the mood for bacon and eggs, that's all. I'm not really hungry."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you've lost some weight over the past few days, sweetheart," Phil said gently, glancing up from his own plate. "The flu does that to you from time to time."

Helga grinned. "Hey, if it gives me an excuse to eat junk later on, I'm all for it."

"So am I," Phil chortled. "Although I don't really need it," he added, with a rub of his protruding stomach.

"Eh," Helga shrugged. "What's the harm? You're old anyway!"

"Helga!" Arnold exclaimed.

Phil laughed. "Oh, she didn't mean any harm, Short man!" the old man chuckled. "She's right at least!" He threw his grandson a teasing grin. "You better play your cards right, Arnold-" he gestured to Helga, "-this one's a real keeper!"

" _Grandpa!_ " he said blushingly, causing Helga's face to heat up in turn beside him.

 _Arnold's Grandpa just said_ _ **I'm**_ _a keeper? Oh, what alternate universe have I just entered? This is a dream come true at last!_

"Sorry about that Helga," Arnold whispered, swiftly bringing Helga out of her thoughts. "Grandpa… well he likes to tease me sometimes…"

"No… no… it's okay," Helga said quickly, waving the boy's concerns off, mindful of the rising heat upon on her cheeks. "I… I don't mind." Laughing nervously, she glanced back to her food, averting her eyes away from Arnold's equally crimson face.

"I see the snow stopped," she noted, rapidly moving the conversation along. She nodded her head towards the window, where a slight stream of light was coming through the window. "You said it wouldn't last long."

"Yeah, it stopped last night," Arnold said, turning to his attention towards the window. "One of the advantages to having a glass roof," he grinned, seeing Helga's perplexed expression. "I can see everything that goes on. Weather wise anyway."

"Probably not so awesome in the middle of a storm, I bet," Helga chuckled.

"Oh, it's alright unless there's hail," Arnold replied. "Or a _lot_ of lightning," he added nervously. " _Then_ it's scary."

"I can imagine," Helga said. "Sort of a shame the snow's gone, though," she admitted, heaving a sigh. "We could have done some snow watching." She frowned curiously. "Is that a thing?"

Arnold laughed. "It is to me," he said, throwing her a bright smile. "And you never know, it might snow again later on."

"Well, if the news is to be believed, we're due for some more snow this afternoon," Stella said as she and Miles re-entered the room. "And not just sleet this time."

"Yes!" Helga exclaimed, punching the air eagerly.

Arnold raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I never took you for a person to get excited over snow, Helga."

Helga frowned. "I… I'm not," she said, swiftly bringing her hand back down beside her. "I mean, who the heck gets excited over frozen water?" She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just hoping we might get a snow day out of this, that's all."

 _Well, that was the lamest excuse I'd ever done. And come to think of it, why the heck did I even do it?! I mean, it's just snow!_

Helga sighed. "Alright, fine, I like snow," she said irritably, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You happy now, Football Head? Helga G Pataki gets excited over a bunch of stupid snowflakes!"

"Along with a lot of other kids in the world," Arnold pointed out casually, causing the irritated expression upon Helga's face to slip away. "I don't know why you're so bothered by it. Even if you do think it's stupid. Besides-" he continued, with a grin in the girl's direction, "-you made it sort of obvious yesterday. Especially since you said you'd been watching for it all day."

Helga groaned. "Rookie mistake."

"It's not a rookie mistake, Helga, it's nice," Arnold said, throwing her a soft smile. "It shows there's a soft side to you after all."

Helga snorted. "Thought you knew that already, Football Head?"

"Well… yeah…" Arnold admitted sheepishly. "But it's always nice to see."

"Yeah, yeah, lap it up, Arnoldo, you're not going to get it all the time," Helga said, although she couldn't stop a smile from twitching at the corners of her lips. "Now, when's this snow supposed to start?" she asked, turning her attention to Stella and Miles, sitting opposite them eating their own breakfast.

"This afternoon if the reports are to be believed," Stella replied. "But I don't think we're going to get enough to get a snow day, Helga," she added, seeing Helga's eager expression, which quickly fell at this news. "If we do get any, it'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Dang it," Helga muttered, before barking out a cough, which had her quickly looking around for the cough mixture Stella had brought in, and finding it beside her, quickly upended it, before swiftly washing it down with a glass of orange juice.

"The way that cough's sounding, it'll probably be a bad idea to let you out outside even if it _did_ start to snow," Miles said, listening as the young girl gave out another chesty cough. "The last thing we need is for that to turn into pneumonia."

"Yeah… no thanks," Helga said, suppressing a shudder. "The last thing I want is to be stuck in the hospital just before Christmas."

"It's the last thing we want either," Stella said gently, throwing the eleven-year-old a sympathetic smile. "I certainly don't want to have to tell your parents that we couldn't look after you properly."

"Hey, it wouldn't be your fault," Helga said, throwing the parents a horrified look. "It'd mine for not listening to you in the first place!"

Stella smiled. "Yes, well, either way, Helga, make sure you keep resting. We need to make sure you're all well before we send you back home."

"Well, I'm getting there," Helga said, gesturing to the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal in front of her. "Sort of," she added, putting down her spoon and pushing the bowl away. "I'm still not really hungry."

"As long as you're eating something, it's fine, hon," Stella said kindly, standing up to collect the bowl. "Don't force yourself."

"Thanks," Helga said wearily, stifling a yawn. The small burst of energy she had received upon her rude awakening was quickly wearing off as the morning went on. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by Arnold.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie?" he asked kindly.

Helga shrugged. "Fine with me, Football Head," she said, standing up from her chair. "But I think I might go and get changed first," she added, with a quick glance down at her pyjamas, which had been her only outfit for nigh on three days now. "These pj's are _really_ starting to wear out their welcome."

* * *

The two kids had barely gotten through twenty minutes of their chosen movie before the doorbell rang. Ignoring the intrusion, Helga and Arnold continued to watch the screen, where The Princess Bride was playing, only to have their names yelled out from the bottom of the stairs.

"Helga, Arnold!" Stella's voice drifted up from the hallway. "Gerald and Phoebe are here!"

"Oops, I forgot they said they might come over today," Arnold said guiltily, quickly pausing the movie.

"Eh, you can turn it off if you want," Helga said nonchalantly, waving a hand towards the screen. "I'm not a massive fan of this movie anyway."

"I haven't actually seen it," Arnold admitted, throwing her a sheepish grin. "It's actually my mom's DVD."

Helga chuckled. "Don't worry, you're not missing out on much," she said dryly. "It's completely corny if you want the truth."

"Well, _I_ don't think it is, but Helga has _never_ liked this movie." Phoebe's voice entered the fold as she and Gerald entered the room, and upon spotting Helga, immediately raced over to the girl to envelop her in a tight hug.

"Woah there, Pheebs," Helga said hoarsely as the Japanese American knocked the air out of the ill young girl. "I'm already coughing my lungs up, I don't need you to help them along!"

"Sorry!" Phoebe squeaked, immediately releasing her best friend.

"Eh, it's alright," Helga shrugged, throwing a grin in the girl's direction. "I just don't want to spray my germs all over you, that's all."

"Got it," Phoebe said cheerfully, sitting down beside her friend. "So, how are you feeling?" she asked, looking the girl up and down. "You look better."

"Well, my fever's gone, which is a bonus," Helga admitted. "But I'm still not feeling all that great." She quickly turned away as the familiar tickling sensation irritated her throat. "And there's _that,_ " she added, turning back after the coughing fit had passed.

" _That_ is actually a good thing," Phoebe explained astutely. "It means your immune system is fighting back against the virus and clearing your lungs."

"It's annoying as all heck, though," Helga muttered, turning away so that she could cough again, causing Gerald to take a precautionary step back.

"Oh man, keep those germs to yourself, Pataki!" Gerald exclaimed, although his tone was amused. "We've got enough people missing from school!"

Phoebe giggled. "It's not quite that bad, Gerald."

"Are you kidding?" he exclaimed, throwing his girlfriend an incredulous look. "Half the school is out for the count!"

"I think you're exaggerating, Gerald," Arnold said in amusement. "It's more like a handful from each class."

"Well, that's close to half the school!"

"Actually, it would be more like a quarter," Phoebe corrected. "But yes, it is quite bad right now. It's really going around."

"I'm surprised Arnold hasn't caught it, then," Helga said, jerking her head to the boy sitting beside her. "I mean, he's spent almost as much time with me than Stella has."

"It's probably a strain I was vaccinated for," Arnold pointed out, before his eyes suddenly widened. He turned to Helga in surprise. "Did you actually just call me Arnold?" he asked, surprised.

"I was just about to ask the same thing," Gerald said, turning to the pink clad girl in surprise. "You know, I don't think I've _ever_ heard you call my man by his actual name before." He raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

"So, what, I'm not allowed to call my own boyfriend by his own name without you thinking something's up?!" Helga exclaimed, looking up at the African American with a scowl.

Phoebe, Gerald and Arnold's mouths fell open.

"What?" Helga asked them irritably, oblivious to what she had just said.

"Um… Helga…" Arnold whispered, scooting closer to the girl's ear. "You just called me your boyfriend. Out loud."

Helga's eyes widened in horror.

 _Oh shoot! Why did I have to open my big mouth?! Not good!_

"I meant friend!" Helga snapped, taking Arnold by surprise. "I mean, sheesh, why I want Football Head to be-" Trailing off mid-sentence, she sighed. There was no point in hiding it.

"Oh, whatever!" she exclaimed irritably, glancing up at Gerald and Phoebe defiantly. "Fine, you heard right! _Arnold_ is my boyfriend. You got a problem with that?!" she snapped, curling her hand into a fist in response.

"Why _would_ we have a problem with it?" Phoebe replied gently, unfazed by her best friend's anger. "I mean, I sort of just assumed you were, especially after what happened in San Lorenzo."

"Yeah," Gerald agreed. "I just assumed neither of you were willing to say it out loud, that's all. I mean, I think you forget that I _saw_ that kiss of yours back in San Lorenzo-" he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest smugly, "-and guys, that was no 'this never happened' kiss."

"Oh… who asked you anyway?" Helga muttered, her face turning a bright shade of crimson.

Gerald smirked in amusement. "Careful, Helga, I think you're getting another fever."

"Watch it," she said warningly, holding up a fist to Gerald's face. "You may be Football Head's best friend, but that doesn't mean I still can't pound you. On another day anyway," she added, slumping back against the couch with a sigh. "You're lucky I'm still sick."

" _Helga_ ," Arnold said sternly, only for Gerald to hold up a hand to him.

"No man, she's good," he grinned, causing Helga to roll her eyes.

"Shut up before you get on my nerves, Tall Hair Boy."

"Alright, I'm done," Gerald chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat, before turning to Arnold with a grin. "I wish you luck, buddy. You can really pick 'em."

"Hey, at least this time the girl I like actually likes me _back_ ," Arnold countered, turning to Helga with a soft smile. "Even if she is a little brash," he added teasingly, earning him a pillow to the head from said girl. "Hey! Not helping, Helga!" he laughed, raising his arms to shield himself from her next blow.

"Are you sure she's been sick, man?" Gerald asked, amused by the scene in front of him. "Because she's got one mighty back swing for someone who has the flu."

"Believe me, I won't be doing that again in a hurry," Helga assured him, quickly dropping the pillow back down onto the couch. "That took more effort than I thought."

"You will still be very weak for a few more days, Helga," Phoebe explained kindly, stooping down to grab a blanket that was lying on the floor, before draping it over Helga's legs. "You probably won't be able to do much than walk around the house. But at the rate you're going, you should be back in school by Monday."

"Gee, swell," Helga said dryly. "That's just the thing I want to do after having the flu. Go back to school."

"Well, it's better than being sick, isn't it?" Gerald said. "And it's only a three-day week anyway," he reminded her. "We start winter break on Wednesday."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," Helga replied. "And Simmons doesn't usually give us too much work before the break anyway."

"We didn't do much yesterday, either," Gerald admitted. "With a few people out sick and a lot more around the school, Mr S didn't see much point in starting anything new."

Helga snorted. "It's probably because the guy can't handle the class. You know what it's like a few weeks before Christmas."

"Actually, the class has been rather quiet over the past few days," Phoebe piped up. "I mean, Harold and Sid have been a little rambunctious, but without you and Curly, the class has been rather subdued."

"Well, I knew the class would be quiet without Curly, but what do I have to do with it?" Helga inquired, glancing around at the other three in confusion. "I'm not _that_ bad." She frowned. "Am I?"

"No, but it certainly is quiet," Gerald chuckled, throwing the girl a teasing grin. "Like I said, Pataki, the class is _not_ the same without your loud voice. I don't think Harold has known what to do with himself without you to argue with."

"Well, I'm only happy to oblige him on Monday if that's what he wants," Helga said, cracking her knuckles threateningly. "Although from what I heard, just hearing about my night in the bathroom made the guy turn green!"

" _Green?!_ " Gerald laughed. "You didn't see anything! As soon as he heard you'd been sick all night, he went from laughing to ghost white in a matter of seconds. I thought he was _gone_!"

"He certainly did look deathly pale," Phoebe said, stifling a giggle of her own. "And every time someone mentioned it, he looked as if he was going to go the same way!"

"Only because they talked about when the poor guy was trying to _eat_ ," Arnold pointed out, shaking his head unhappily. "It was a tad unfair."

"I hate to say it," Helga interjected, "but that is a _bit_ cruel. But then again, I could still be grossed out from my own experience." She shuddered at the memory. "I never want to go through another night like that again."

"Man, you _must_ have had it bad," Gerald said, throwing the girl a look of sympathy. "I mean, I've seen you barf after the rollercoaster at Dinoland and not even _flinch_."

"Yeah, and all those times are just a one off," Helga pointed out. "This went on for _hours. With a fever_ ," she added, throwing the boy a pointed glance. "And despite everything, I don't really remember much else about that whole night _at all_."

"Mom said Helga seemed pretty coherent at the time-" Arnold interjected, "-but other than how many times she was sick, she doesn't remember much about the night. I mean, her fever _was_ 104 for a little while."

" _Nothing_?" Phoebe asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "Goodness, Helga, you must have been very out of it to forget most of the night."

Helga snorted. "Hey, tell me something I don't know," she said. "Although I sort of wish I'd forget barfing all night too."

"I'm not surprised you remember _that_ ," Gerald said, his face one of disgust. "It's not something that's easy to forget, no matter how much you want to. I mean, poor Timberly still remembers the time she had the stomach flu _two years ago_ , but she can't remember what she had for dinner sometimes."

"Alright, alright, can we move on?" Helga snapped, suddenly weary of a slight queasiness to her stomach. "I'm going to barf all over you three if you don't can it."

"Canning it," Phoebe said softly, throwing her friend a sympathetic smile. "So, did you see the snow yesterday?" she asked, swiftly changing the subject. "It didn't last long, but it was rather pretty."

"If you'd call it snow, that is," Gerald said irritably, quickly glancing up at the greying clouds through the glass roof. "It was lucky enough to be called sleet." He shook his head. "Man, at this rate we'll be lucky to see any decent snow before Christmas. And that really stinks."

"Stella said we're due for some more this afternoon," Helga said, turning her attention to the sky above. "But it won't be much."

Phoebe shook her head. "No, I don't believe it will be," she agreed. "Some of it might stick to the ground this time, but it won't be around for long. But-" she added cheerfully, "-that is usually a precursor to a decent snowfall."

"I hope so," Arnold said anxiously. "Because we've usually got some decent snow by now."

"Yeah," Gerald said, with a nod of agreement. "Plus I want to have the first snowball fight," he added, mimicking the action.

Phoebe giggled. "I'm certain you will get your snowball fight in time, Gerald," she said, throwing him a tender smile, causing him to blush in turn.

"Oh, gee, Geraldo, I think you're coming down with something," Helga mocked, throwing the self-conscious boy a teasing grin. "You seem to have become a bit red there."

Gerald groaned. "Man, I walked right into that one," he said, with an embarrassed shake of his head. He turned his attention to Arnold with a grin. "Are you _sure_ this is the girl for you?"

Arnold smiled. "Sorry Gerald, but I'm pretty sure," he said softly, reaching out to take Helga's hand. "You'll just have to get used to it."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you were going to say that," he remarked, his tone amused. "Oh well, I'll get used to it."

"Ignore him," Phoebe said, waving the boy's comments off. "He's already used to it. He's just being a pest."

"I am not!"

"Oh, you are so," Phoebe chuckled. "You just won't admit it."

"Yeah, alright, I guess," Gerald said, reaching out to wrap an arm around Phoebe's shoulders, before bringing her closer. She giggled.

"Oh sheesh, get a room, already," Helga said, poking her tongue out in mock disgust.

"Technically we're in one," Gerald grinned. "Does that count? Besides," he added, "what do you call _that_?" He nodded to Arnold and Helga's entwined hands.

"Well, you got me there," Helga remarked. "But then again, I don't really care."

Gerald raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's a new one."

Arnold smiled. "Well, I like it," he said, mindful of the faint blush rising in the grooves of his cheeks. "It beats denial anyway."

"Watch it," Helga said warningly. "It won't happen all the time and you know it. I still have a reputation, you know."

Arnold shrugged.

"Yeah, I know."

"Looks like my man has you down pat, Pataki," Gerald teased, watching as Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "It's about time."

"Oh, shut up, Geraldo."

"Shutting up."

"That'd be a first."

"Hey!"

"Alright, that's enough," Arnold said, although his tone was amused. "Do you guys want to stay and watch a movie?"

Gerald turned to Phoebe questioningly. "Do you think it'll snow any time soon?"

Phoebe glanced up at the darkening clouds with a thoughtful frown.

"I think we'll be safe enough to watch an hour and a half movie."

"Alright, I'll guess we'll stay then," Gerald said cheerfully, pulling up a chair beside the couch. "Just do me a favour, though," he continued, with a quick glance towards the tv, where the Princess Bride was still paused on the screen. "Please don't make me watch the rest of that."

"Amen to that!"

Arnold laughed.

"Fine. Go and choose something else."

"Ohhh," Phoebe said disappointedly, as the other three got up to search the DVD collection. "But _I_ like that movie."

* * *

The snowfall started a lot earlier than anticipated. No sooner had the four kids gotten through the movie, Phoebe noticed a flurry of snow lightly sticking to the glass of the roof, before blowing away in the light breeze outside. Thankfully, the snow didn't seem to be heavy, so the kids followed through to the conclusion of the movie, before swiftly making their way downstairs to check on the weather's progress.

"What do you think, Pheebs?" Gerald enquired, poking his head out the door and glancing up at the cloudy sky. "Do you think we should go or can we stay a bit longer do you think?"

"You two can stay for lunch if you want," Stella offered, coming into the hallway to check on the kids. "The snow doesn't seem _too_ bad, and if it does get worse we can always drive you home."

Phoebe shook her head with a smile. "No thank you, Mrs Shortman," she said kindly. "It's a very kind offer, but I think it might be better if we get going now before it gets any heavier."

"I understand," Stella said, throwing the young girl a smile. "Just be careful walking home, though."

"We will, Mrs S, no worries," Gerald assured her, glancing up at the woman with a bright smile. "We know this city in all types of weather."

"Tell me about it," Helga chuckled, leaning against the wall beside the door to avoid the cold rush of air coming through the door. "I've lost count on how many times I've walked home in a storm. Snow is _ten_ times better. Well, when it's not freezing anyway," she noted, shivering involuntarily as a blast of cold air hit her bare arms, which Arnold quickly rectified by placing a blanket around her shoulders.

"Would you quit fussing over me?" Helga hissed, yanking the blanket out of Arnold's hand in annoyance.

"Why don't you get a jacket, then?" Arnold replied, his tone emanating just a hint of annoyance. "I'm only trying to help."

Helga sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know." She tugged the blanket closer around her shoulders. "Sorry, force of habit."

" _Very_ force of habit it would seem," Gerald quipped, earning him a narrowed glance from the girl in question. He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah… I think that's our cue to go, Pheebs," he said, jerking his thumb towards the door. "Before Pataki here gets a sudden burst of energy."

Helga chuckled. "Nah-" she said, waving off the boy's concerns indifferently, "-you're safe, Geraldo. Don't have the energy."

"Good to know," Gerald grinned. "But seriously, though," he continued, with a warm smile in her direction, "I hope you feel better." Hesitating for a moment, Gerald quickly stepped forward and placed a kind hand on her shoulder before stepping back with an awkward grin, before Phoebe stepped forward to envelop the girl in a warm hug.

"You make sure you keep that blanket on, Helga," Phoebe said firmly, gesturing to the item still wrapped firmly around the girl's shoulders. "We don't want you getting sick again. I'd like my friend back at school Monday," she beamed.

Helga rolled her eyes in amusement. "Bit sappy there, Phoebe," she said. "But I get the point."

"Good," Phoebe said cheerfully. "Then I'll see you on Monday." Turning to Gerald, she held out her hand for him to take. "Alright, let's go before this snow gets any heavier."

Gerald nodded, before turning to Arnold being him with a smile. "Alright, I'll see you on Monday, man."

"See ya, Gerald," Arnold replied cheerfully just as the two kids went out into the snow, before quickly making their way down the snow trodden path.

" _Oh man_ ," Helga whined, glancing out at the snow-covered wonderland. "It's actually starting to build up."

"It'll snow again before long, Helga, don't worry," Arnold said, placing a hesitant hand upon her shoulder.

Helga sighed. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she mumbled, glancing out at the tiny amount of snow sticking to the cement path.

Helga heard a sigh from behind her, and diverting her attention away from the snow, Helga glanced around to see Stella exchange an exasperated glance with her husband, before turning her attention towards Helga.

"Helga," Stella said firmly, "if you promise to put on a jacket and only _sit-_ " she emphasised the word greatly, "on the steps for no more than ten minutes, then I don't see a problem with going outside. Alright?" She threw the girl a pointed glance.

Helga grinned. "Hey, if it gives me enough time to throw a snowball at Football Head, I'm all for it."

"Oh, so you only want to go outside to hit me in the head?" Arnold asked in amusement. "I should have known that was the reason."

"Eh," Helga shrugged. "It was more of a bonus."

Arnold chuckled. "Gee, thanks."

"Yes, well, that _bonus_ will have to wait," Stella said, throwing the girl an apologetic glance, causing the cheerful grin on Helga's face to instantly slip away. "At least for now anyway. Sitting only, alright?"

Helga sighed. "Yeah, okay," she agreed, before turning her attention towards Arnold, who she quickly discovered was no longer beside her. She frowned.

"Where's-?"

"Right here," Arnold said, coming into view with Helga's jacket held firmly in his hand. "I got this for you," he said, holding out the item towards her.

 _Seriously, I could have gotten that myself, Football Head!_ she thought irritably, but instead of voicing these thoughts, Helga swallowed the instinctive retort bubbling to the surface, and instead, threw the boy a grateful smile.

"Thanks, Arnold," she smiled, appreciatively taking the jacket from his hand and slipping it on, before making her way outside where she sat on the Boarding House steps. She shivered as the icy concrete penetrated her bare legs.

"Crimeny, that's cold!" she exclaimed, instantly wrapping the blanket around her legs instead.

"Well, it _is_ snow, Helga," Arnold said cheerfully, sitting on the ground beside her before placing his hand nervously beside hers. She rolled her eyes.

"Gee, thanks for the newsflash, Arnoldo-" Helga said dryly, "-I would never have guessed it was snowing. And here I thought it was rain." And before Arnold knew what was coming, she had quickly reached down, grabbed a handful of snow and swiftly smashed it into his unexpecting face.

Spluttering in shock, Arnold reached up to wipe the snow off his face causing Helga to roar with laughter beside him.

"You… you should see your face!" she croaked. "You look like the beginning of a snowman!"

"Hey, no fair!" Arnold laughed, wiping the last of the snow off his face. "I can't get you back!"

Helga grinned. "That was the point, Football Head."

Arnold raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?" he asked playfully, standing up, before making his way down to the footpath where he reached down leisurely towards the snow with a grin upon his face.

Helga's eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, just as a missile of snow suddenly propelled towards her. "Omph!" A snowball the size of her face crashed straight into her.

Seeing the snow sluggishly drip off Helga's shocked face, Arnold couldn't help but laugh; doubling over in hysterics as his girlfriend tried to rid herself of the slush that was sliding down her head.

"Now who looks like a snowman?!" he chuckled, pointing a finger in the girl's direction.

"Laugh it up, Football Head," Helga said casually, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You're just lucky I'm not allowed to move from this step."

Arnold gave a nervous laugh. "That doesn't stop you from getting me back next time, though, huh?"

Helga grinned. "Oh, you have no idea." And stooping down, she quickly grabbed another handful of snow and pelted it straight back towards the unsuspecting boy.

"And Pataki takes the win!"

"Oh, come on!" Arnold laughed. Spitting out a mouthful of snow, he expertly dodged as another projectile came his way.

"Helga!"

"What?" she asked innocently, quickly hiding her newly formed snowball behind her back. "I'm not doing anything." She coughed loudly, and with a pang of annoyance, she quickly dropped her handful of snow to cover her mouth as a coughing fit began to take over.

"We better get you back inside," Arnold said quickly, all traces of playfulness gone. "It's getting too cold out here."

"Yeah, we p… probably shouldn't h… have thrown the… the snowballs," Helga choked out between coughs.

"My thoughts exactly."

Hearing his mother's voice, Arnold sheepishly glanced up at the front windows of the Boarding House where he and Helga found the older woman glancing out the window at the scene with a stern glance.

"Something tells me this _isn't_ sitting quietly on the step," Stella said calmly, throwing the two kids a firm glance. She gestured towards the door. "Come inside. We'll get Helga into a warm shower."

"Sorry mom," Arnold said guiltily as he and Helga came back inside. "We didn't mean to get so carried away."

Stella smiled. "I know you didn't, honey, but you have to remember that Helga still isn't well so that probably wasn't the best idea. No matter how much fun it was," she added, with a smile in Helga's direction. The eleven-year-old grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, Stella, it was my fault," Helga admitted. "I started it." She barked out a small cough.

"Go and have a warm shower, hon," Stella said, nodding her head towards the bathroom door. "That'll help."

"On it," Helga said, before turning back to Arnold with a grin. "Sorry, Football Head, I guess we'll have to wait for that rematch."

Arnold chuckled. "Let's just wait until you're better, Helga, _then_ we'll think about it."

"Fine with me," she replied. "Although I gotta admit, Football Head, you're making it hard to go home. This place is ten times better than my place on a good day!"

"You know, you don't _have_ to go home tomorrow if you don't want to, Helga," Arnold reminded her. "Mom said you can stay until Monday if you want."

Helga shook her head. "Nah," she said. "I better get home. I mean, who else is going to tell my dad he's being stupid if I'm not there?" she chuckled.

 _If only that was the reason,_ she thought bitterly as she made her way to the shower. _But if I stay here any longer, I'm not going to_ _ **want**_ _to go home. But the last thing I need to do is tell Arnold that! Nope, whether I like it or not, I'm going back home tomorrow. Just perfect._

* * *

"Okay, are you _sure_ you're ready to go home?"

"Like I've told you a _million_ times, Football Head, _yes_ ," Helga replied, bending down to pick up her bag from the bedroom floor. "I mean, I can't stay here forever, can I?"

 _Although I wish I_ _ **could**_ _, don't you worry,_ she thought bitterly, hauling her bag up into arms with a grunt _._

"Well, no," Arnold admitted, reaching out to take the bag out of the girl's arms, which she gratefully surrendered to him. "But you don't have to rush back home if you don't feel up to it."

"Yeah, well, after five days with your folks, you're lucky I'm going back at all," Helga remarked. "I mean, compared to my parents, _your_ parents are pretty much perfect."

Arnold smiled sadly. "No family is perfect, Helga."

Helga scoffed. "Spend a few days with mine and you might change your mind on that, Football Head. They aren't exactly parents of the year."

"No," Arnold admitted softly. "But at least they try, don't they?"

"Yeah, when they feel like it," Helga snorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest bitterly. "If you call living in my dad's beeper store because the man's too stubborn to admit defeat _trying_ that is."

"Yeah, well, hopefully that will change soon, Helga," Arnold said optimistically as he and Helga made their way towards the front hall. "Dad's going to try and talk to your dad when you get home."

" _Try_ being the key word," Helga pointed out. "You don't know Bob as well as I do, Arnold. He'll _never_ accept help, no matter who's offering it."

"Yes, well, hopefully we can make an exception this time," Miles said as he came into the hallway. "Because I've contacted the San Lorenzo Hospital and they said they'd be happy to take the beepers off your dad's hands, Helga. And Helpers for Humanity said they'll pay whatever your dad wants for them. As long as it's reasonable of course," he added quickly.

Helga chuckled. "Yeah, make sure you don't get swindled is all I can say. If my dad _does_ accept the help, he's not likely to let them go in a hurry."

"Don't worry, Helga," Stella said, throwing the eleven-year-old a swift smile. "Miles knows what he's doing. Now," she glanced down at the bag held firmly in her son's hand, "are you all ready to go? There's nothing you've forgotten?"

Helga shook her head. "I'm good," she said. "I made sure not to unpack too much stuff at once." She glanced up at the woman with a grateful smile. "Well… urgh… thanks, I guess," she said awkwardly. "For taking care of me."

Stella smiled. "It was no trouble, hon, I assure you," she said softly. "Just promise me that you won't overdo it for a few more days. You're still not 100 percent yet."

"Don't worry, I won't," Helga assured her. "The last thing I want is to go through all that _again_!"

"Good to know," Stella said. "And just remember that if you ever need anything, just call. And you can come over whenever you want. I-"

"For the last time, Oscar, stop hogging the tv!"

"But it's my turn for the tv!"

"When isn't it your turn?!"

Stella sighed. "I better go break this up," she said, turning away from the two kids with a shake of her head.

Helga chuckled. "It's always something in this house, isn't-" She suddenly trailed off as she felt Arnold's arms suddenly enclosed around her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Helga," Arnold said softly, somewhere close to Helga's ear. "And just remember, if you ever need to talk, just ask, okay?"

"I…." Helga's brain froze momentarily at the feel of her boyfriend's arms around her shoulders. "I… I mean-"

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she quickly pulled herself away.

"Pft!" Helga scoffed, old habits dying hard as she pushed the boy away. "Like I'd ever come to _you_ to talk, Football Head!"

Arnold sighed. There was the Helga he knew.

"Whatever you say, Helga."

 _Urgh! Seriously, why do I keep doing that?! Come on, Helga, make your move._

Helga sighed. "Thanks, Arnold. I… I will."

 _Well, that's better at least._

"Well, I better get going," Helga said cheerfully, in an effort to break the ice. "My parents are going to wonder where the heck I am if I don't get home soon." And after hesitating momentarily, she quickly flung her arms around Arnold's neck, causing him to still in surprise, and pulled him closer to her.

"T…thanks, Arnold," she mumbled. "I mean it."

Her heart skipped a beat as Arnold's arms wound around her waist in reply.

"It's okay, Helga," he said, his tone slightly amused. "I should have known I couldn't change you overnight."

Helga scoffed. "I doubt you could change me in a year, Football Head," she grinned as she pulled away.

Arnold laughed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Helga."

Helga smiled. "See ya, Football Head," she replied. "I'll call you tonight."

Arnold nodded. "Tell me what your dad decides."

"Believe me, I already know what the answer will be."

* * *

"No."

 _Knew that was coming._

"Gee, dad, way to give it some thought," Helga deadpanned.

"Hey, hey, don't get snippy with me, little lady," Bob retorted, pointing a finger towards her rudely. "I said no, and that's all there is to it. I don't need someone waltzing in telling me how to sell my own beepers, no matter who it is! And that reminds me-" he added, his tone taking a softer tone, "-get inside, Helga. It's too cold out here for you."

"It's not even snowing, dad," Helga said bitterly.

"No, but you've had the flu, haven't you?" Bob remarked, with a questioning glance towards the girl. "The last thing you need is to be out here."

"I know what I should do, _dad_ ," Helga snapped, throwing her bag onto the ground in a huff. "In case you forgot, Miles and Stella have been doing all they can to make sure I felt better!"

"Oh, that reminds me," Bob said, ignoring his daughter's outburst. Turning to Miles, Bob hesitantly stretched out a hand towards the man. "Um… well… thanks, I guess. For taking care of Helga this week. She…. urgh… she looks better."

"It was no trouble at all, Mr Pataki," Miles said pleasantly, giving the burly man a small shake of the hand, before it was immediately dropped. "I'm just glad she's feeling better." He paused for a moment. "Look, Mr Pataki-"

"Now, I'm just going to stop you right there…. urgh… Miles," Bob said rudely, holding up a hold to stop the man from talking. "I don't care what it is that you have to say, I'm not doing it. This is _my_ store and _I'm_ the one who will decide what to do with it."

"Oh, yeah, and that's working out like a real charm, isn't it?!" Helga exclaimed, cutting off her father in his tracks. "You haven't sold one of the stupid things in months and yet you still won't take the help when it's offered!"

"Now, you listen here, missy," Bob said angrily, glaring down at his eleven-year-old daughter. "We are doing just fine. Business is just in a slump right now-"

"A slump?!" Helga screeched. "Look around, dad!" She waved a hand to the abandoned carpark and building around them. "No one _wants_ your stupid beepers anymore! They're over! And where has that left us? In the stupid store!"

"I don't like your attitude, girl," Bob said warningly. "Now, get inside before you make yourself sick."

" _My_ attitude?!" Helga exclaimed, throwing a hand up in exasperation. "Have you heard _yourself?!_ Miles has an offer to help you and you won't even listen to him because of your stupid pride! Well, what about your family?! Do you think we want to be stuck in this place for the rest of our lives?!" She broke off with a hacking cough.

"Get inside, Helga," her father repeated, his tone slightly concerned at the sounds emitting from his daughter's throat. "Yelling isn't going to help anything."

Helga snorted. "With you it doesn't," she said croakily. "But, dad, please," she continued, glancing up at her father with a pleading expression. "Just _listen_ to what Mr Shortman has to say before saying no. I mean, it can't hurt, can it?"

Bob sighed. "Alright _, fine,"_ he conceded. He turned back to Miles with a sceptical glance. "Well, are you coming in or not?" he asked rudely.

"Real nice, Bob," Helga muttered.

Miles turned to her with a smile. "Just go and a rest, Helga," he said softly. "I'll be fine here."

With a nod towards the man, Helga quickly snatched up her bag from the sidewalk, before making her way into the desolate store, where the only signs of life were her mother slumped over on the couch in what could be classed as the living area.

"Hey, Miriam," Helga said dryly as she passed by the woman.

"Wh… huh?" Miriam jerked away at the sound of her daughter's voice. "Oh, hey, honey," she said drowsily, with a smile in the girl's direction. "How… how are you feeling? Are you doing better?"

"Getting there, Miriam," Helga replied.

"Oh, that's good," Miriam said, her tone slightly relieved. "I was a little bit worried when your little friend's mom rang us the other day."

"Her name's Stella, mom," Helga explained impatiently. "And she and Miles took good care of me, don't worry. Miles is actually outside talking to dad about a plan to sell the rest of his beepers at the moment."

"Oh… really?" Miriam said attentively, sitting up so that she could glance outside. "Well, hopefully that all works out, then. They seem like lovely people."

Despite her irritation, Helga couldn't hide but smile at the compliment and thought to herself ' _Yeah, they are'._

"Helga, honey, why don't you just dump that stuff there?" her mother said, gesturing to the bag in the girl's hands. "I'll look after it later. You just go and rest."

Helga raised her eyebrows in surprise.

 _Where the heck is this coming from?_

"Um, yeah… sure," Helga said slowly. "Thanks." And turning her back towards her mother, went to the back of the store where her makeshift bedroom was situated where she collapsed backwards onto the cot with a grunt of discomfort.

"Never noticed how uncomfortable this thing was," Helga muttered, wriggling into a more comfortable position, while all the while listening to the faint sounds of her father and Miles talking out in the front of the store. Every now and then she could hear her father raise his voice in what appeared to be an argument, then quickly settling back down to a quiet murmur, before finally, it disappeared altogether.

"He probably kicked poor Miles out," Helga remarked once the voices had stopped.

 _Crimeny, how stubborn does that man have to be?! We're practically broke, living in a store and yet Bob_ _ **still**_ _won't accept a good offer when he sees it! Why can't he just accept that beepers are over and move on? Is his stupid pride really worth more than his family? Honestly!_

Infuriated, Helga picked up her hairbrush from the side of her bed and threw it as hard as she could against the wall, before slumping back against the wall behind her. Nothing was going to change at this rate. She glanced at the phone beside her. Maybe Arnold could help. She reached out to pick up the receiver, only to recoil away. No, she just came from there. No point in confiding in him yet. She'll wait until tonight.

A knock on the door of her rough-and-ready bedroom pulled the girl from her musing.

"Hey, Helga, you awake in there?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "Yes, _dad_ ," she answered pointedly, turning her attention towards the door. "I'm past the stage where I need a nap during the day."

"I was only asking," her father replied irritably as he entered the room. "I mean, how am I supposed to know how you're feeling?"

"I'm home, aren't I?" Helga replied snippily. "That should give you your first clue."

"Cut the attitude, missy," Bob said warningly. "I was only saying."

"Whatever," Helga mumbled. "So, what did you do with Miles?" she asked, glancing up at her father inquisitively. "Did you kick him out?"

"For your information, I took your advice and listened to what he had to say," Bob replied, grunting slightly as he sat on the bed beside her.

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "And?"

Bob shrugged. "And it's not a bad idea."

"That's it?" Helga said, throwing her father an incredulous look. "You're given an offer to sell the rest of those stupid beepers and that's all you have to say?"

"What do you expect me to say?" Bob asked her, his tone frustrated. "I listened to the guy didn't I? I didn't say anything about actually following through with it."

"For crying out loud, dad, can you even hear yourself?!" Helga yelled. "You're finally given a chance to sell your beepers and now you won't take it! Miles said Helpers for Humanity is willing to pay what you want for them to take them off your hands. Isn't that enough?"

"We don't need charity, Olga."

"It's Helga, dad, _Helga_!" Helga retorted furiously, throwing an arm up in the air. "And it isn't _charity!_ It's a business offer for a heap of beepers that could help a hospital run better than it ever has! And they're willing to pay what they're _worth_! Don't you get what that will mean for us?" she asked, taking hold of her dad's hand in order to get his attention. "If you sell the whole stock to them, you could use the money to try and start up a cell phone business maybe. _They_ are the future. You have to know that!"

Running a hand down his face, Bob sighed in exasperation. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up a hand in defeat. "I'll think about it." He shook his head incredulously. "Honestly, sometimes I forget just how smart you can be, Helga."

 _Gee, I wonder why? With Olga around, I never stand a chance._

Knowing she couldn't voice these thoughts without an argument, Helga resigned herself to a shrug.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should just listen more," she said. "Even mom was hoping you'd listen to him."

"Yeah, well, I have to admit, he's a decent guy," Bob admitted reluctantly. "He's your little friend, Alfred's father, isn't he? That's where you've been the past few days, hasn't it?"

Helga sighed. "It's _Arnold_ , dad," she corrected. "And yes, he is. He works for the charity he's talking about, so he's going out of his way to help you with this."

"Alright, I get the hint," Bob said, standing up from his spot on the bed. "I'll talk to your mother about it and _then_ make a decision. Deal?"

"Fine," Helga accepted.

"Alright, then," Bob said. "Well… urgh… take it easy. We'll call you when dinner's ready." And with that, the man took leave of the room, closing the door awkwardly behind him.

 _Well, I guess it's better than nothing._

* * *

 _Yeah, Bob isn't going to accept help easily, but given how he is in the show, it's lucky he agreed to even think about it. You'll see what happens with the offer in the final chapter. Now, I know that not_ _ **all**_ _hospitals still_ _use beepers/pagers, but back when this was supposed to be set in, they were still a regular thing, so I may just be using creative license. It's hard to tell when the movie was meant to be set in._

 _Ok, so Helga is finally back at home and although she's still very much Helga, she's slowly started to mellow out a little bit for Arnold. As much to be expected anyway. I absolutely loved writing that snowball fight scene because it was a chance to show a side to the two kids we hardly ever see. I also liked writing the new dynamic between the 4 friends when Gerald and Phoebe came over. I always believed Gerald and Helga would drive each other nuts!_

 _You may have also noticed in this chapter that I mentioned about how Helga was with that high fever. A few people have kindly mentioned to me that Helga would not have been that coherent, but the thing is, she wasn't as coherent as it seemed, it just didn't come across that way in writing that's all. As seen in this chapter, Helga barely remembers the night she was so ill except for being violently ill. The whole night, thanks to that fever, is a blur to her. I'm sorry that didn't come across like I wanted it too in that chapter, but some things are harder to write than others._

 _Ok, so next and final chapter will be up sometime next week. It's already completed, it just needs to be edited and double checked, although it shouldn't take long as it's only half the length of this chapter. So, that also means that for anyone reading this that also reads 'Living with the Haddocks', rest assured, I'll be back on it soon now that this story is almost complete, and just in time for the new season of dragons which will give me new motivation!_

 _Ok, before you go,_ _ **PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_ _Just remember, once again, that_ _ **NO FLAMES WILL BE TOLERATED**_ _, but_ _ **KIND**_ _constructive criticism is accepted. Thanks for everyone who has read and reviewed so far!_

 _Thanks for reading!_


	5. Christmas

_Here it is, the final chapter, posted on time as promised! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited this story and made feel so welcome within the Hey Arnold fandom. I loved writing this story and I'm glad it was so well received!_

 _Also, please note in this chapter that while I previously used the Australian spelling of mom which was 'mum', I have now gone and changed it to the proper American spelling. I finally clicked that the reason no one in my previous stories in the httyd fandom were bothered by the spelling was because in httyd, the characters are Vikings, so it didn't matter, while Arnold and the others live in modern America. I apologise for the spelling confusion._

 _Hope you enjoy the final chapter!_

* * *

Chapter 5 – Christmas

* * *

"Hey, Olga, when's breakfast going to be ready?!"

"Any time, daddy, don't worry!"

"Bob, have you seen my new present?!"

"How am I supposed to know? You're the one that moved it!"

"Urgh!" Helga shoved a couple of pillows over her ears in response to the noise. "Will it _ever_ end? At this rate, I'm _never_ going to get to Arnold's!"

It was Christmas Day. While Helga and the rest of her family had exchanged presents earlier in the morning, the eleven-year-old found herself unable to escape her overbearing family, despite a promise for Helga to go over to the Boarding House for the remainder of the day. Already past ten, the family had yet to have breakfast and the entire household was already in chaos with Miriam having had one coffee too many, Bob becoming ornery at the lack of food and Olga being more cheerful than was physically possible. The whole atmosphere was enough to drive the youngest Pataki nuts, and what was worse, _neither_ of her parents would let her leave, with both of them giving their daughter the same answer every time she asked.

"It's _Christmas_ , Helga," her mother had said cheerfully, pumped up on coffee instead of smoothies for once. "Just have breakfast with us first and _then_ you can go over to your little friend's."

That had been half an hour ago.

"Why the long face, baby sister?" Olga asked cheerfully as she placed plates around the small table Helga was sitting at. "It's Christmas!"

"Gee, I don't know," Helga replied acerbically. "I wonder if it has to do with the fact that mom and dad are playing the family card and won't let me go over to Arnold's, where I _promised_ to be."

"Oh, Helga, mommy and daddy are just excited," Olga said softly, sitting down beside her sister. "I mean, they did just get that deal from San Lorenzo thanks to Arnold's parents. They probably just want to celebrate as a family."

"Why?" Helga scoffed, glancing up at her sister in annoyance. "They don't any other time, so why can't I go? I promised Arnold I'd be there by now."

"Why don't you just go, then?"

Helga raised her monobrow sceptically. "You really think mom and dad are going to just let me go? They seem pretty keen in keeping me here."

"I'll deal with mommy and daddy," Olga smiled. "You just go. I know how much you like that nice boy."

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "Gee… thanks, Olga," she said, throwing her sister a grateful smile. "Heck, maybe you're not so bad after all."

"And neither are you, little sister," Olga said warmly, reaching over to place a hand over her sister's. "Now, off you go," she said, shooing her sister out of the room. "You don't want to keep that little boyfriend of yours waiting."

Helga frowned. "How much do you know?"

Olga giggled. "Silly, Helga, I know how much you like that boy! And it's obvious he likes you too. You're very lucky."

Despite her irritation, Helga found herself flushing brightly under her sister's cheerful gaze.

"Um… yeah… I guess so."

 _Oh, you have no idea._

"I _know_ so," Olga replied. "Now, off you go, and make sure you're home by six, okay? Have a nice time!"

"Will do," Helga assured her, picking up her backpack from the floor, which held her presents for Arnold and his family, before making her way towards the back exit of the store. "Thanks Olga."

"Wait!" Olga exclaimed nervously as Helga opened the door to moderate flurry of snow. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you? It's snowing a fair bit outside."

"I've walked in worse," Helga said with a nonchalant shrug. "And Arnold's house isn't _that_ far."

"Well… alright," Olga said hesitantly, looking up the sky through the gap in the door. "But if you need a ride home, just call alright?"

"If it's bad later, Miles or Stella will give me a lift, don't worry," Helga assured her sister. "See you later." And before Olga could say another word, she had swift shut the door and began making her way to the Boarding House through a thin layer of snow.

Walking down the snow-covered sidewalk, Helga found herself glancing into the brightly coloured windows of the houses and terraces lining the streets with a slight pang of excitement. Sure, her family may drive her nuts, but Christmas always seemed to be the one day of the year where they were just like other family. And despite their lack of finances that year, at present anyway, neither Helga nor Olga had been lacking in the gift department, with their parents having saved every penny they could manage during the year. And it wasn't just Christmas with her family that made Helga content, but also the fact that so much had changed that year, particularly in the past few months alone. Not only did Helga have Arnold's love in return, but she also had a surrogate family in the form of Miles and Stella, who had done more for the eleven-year-old than she could ever have asked for. Her flu, which had thankfully vanished just over a week before, wouldn't have been gone half as long if it wasn't for the pair's love and care, and at this point in time, all that remained was a lingering cough which only reared its ugly head in the cold weather. Which was mostly when she was outside in the icy wind. Like now.

A gust of wind whipped up around the young girl as she came into sight of the Boarding House, whose bright lights could only just be seen in the flurry of snow surrounding her. With the tickle in her throat irritated, Helga reached up a hand to cover her mouth as a small cough made itself known.

"Stupid wind," she muttered, bringing her thick wool jacket, a present courtesy of her sister, closer to her chin in an effort to keep the biting wind at bay, just as she made her way up the Boarding House steps. Dancing on the spot to keep herself warm, she reached up to ring the bell, only for the door to swing open before her hand even touched the device.

"Helga!" Stella exclaimed cheerfully. "I'm glad you made it. Come in, it's _freezing_ out there!"

"Thanks," Helga said gratefully, making her way into the house which was a great deal warmer than it was outside. "Sorry I'm late. If it wasn't for my sister covering for me, I would _never_ have gotten here."

"Well, you're here now and that's all that matters," Stella assured her, leading the girl into the living room with a smile. "I was actually wondering where you were, which is why I was at the windows watching out for you."

Helga chuckled. "I'm glad you were," she admitted. "It's _freezing_ out there." She gestured to the snowfall outside.

"You should have called for us to pick you up, hon," Stella said sternly. "You shouldn't have been walking in that so soon after having the flu."

"Oh, Olga offered to give me a lift," Helga admitted, glancing up at the woman sheepishly. "But… urgh… I didn't think it would be that bad."

Stella sighed. "Well, you're not walking home in this, this afternoon. _We_ will be taking home. Understood?" She threw the girl a firm glance.

"Fine with me," Helga chuckled just as she walked into the living room, where she found all the other boarders either sitting around the fire or the Christmas tree, which was brightly lit in the centre of the room. As soon as they noticed her and Stella entered the room, everyone turned to her with a joyful wave.

"Merry Christmas!"

"You too," Helga replied, throwing the rest of the boarders a small smile just bas she engulfed with a mop of blonde hair, curtesy of a certain football headed kid as he flung her arms around her in a tight hug.

"Merry Christmas, Helga," Arnold said cheerfully as he pulled away from her. "I'm glad you made it."

"Yeah, well, blame my parents for that one," Helga said irritably. "They wouldn't let me leave. It was Olga that got me over here."

"See, I always told you your sister was nice," Arnold smiled. "How is she?"

"Sickeningly cheerful as always," Helga replied dryly, taking off her backpack and dropping it beside her. "And she's even worse now that dad's taken the deal."

"I still can't believe he took it," Arnold admitted as he and Helga sat on a rug beside the fireplace. "For a while there, I really didn't think he was going to do it."

"Neither did I," Helga remarked, taking off her gloves, before holding out hands towards the fire. "But now that he has, he's practically _insufferable_. He's acting like _he's_ the one that planned it all." She heaved a sigh. "I don't think he's going to thank your dad anytime soon."

"It doesn't matter," Arnold assured her. "As long as it helps, that's all we want. Is he going to put the money towards a cell phone business?" he asked.

"Apparently," Helga said, heaving an uncertain shrug. "He's going to try anyway. I mean, I know it won't happen overnight, but it's a start at least."

"And the rest?"

"Going towards a rented place for now," Helga said. "I mean, it won't be much, but it's better than being in that stupid store."

"Yeah," Arnold agreed, throwing the girl a warm smile. "I'm happy for you, Helga."

Helga smiled. "Well, it wouldn't have happened without your dad, Football Head." She glanced around with a frown. "Where _is_ he anyway?"

Arnold chuckled. "Tending to Oscar. He… urgh… has the flu," he explained, biting back a grin.

Helga laughed. "Well, he can't blame me!" she exclaimed, holding her hands up defensively. "I haven't been anywhere near him!"

"Well… he _claims_ it's the flu anyway," Arnold corrected, with an exasperated shake of his head. "From what I gather he's lucky to have a small cold. Susie says he's putting it on enough."

Helga snorted. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Believe me, he's putting it on alright," Phil said, overhearing the kid's conversation as he and Miles came into the room. "His temperature is barely above normal, yet you'd think he was dying the way he's putting it on!"

Helga laughed. "Merry Christmas, Mr Shortman."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," Phil said warmly, reaching down to place a hand upon the girl's shoulder. "How are things at your place?"

"Getting better," Helga admitted, turning to Miles with an appreciative smile. "Thanks for everything, Miles. I don't know what you said in the end, but it worked."

"From what I gathered, it was all you, Helga," Miles countered. "But I'm glad I could help."

Helga smiled. "Um… by the way," the girl piped up nervously, reaching a hand into her bag, before emerging with a loosely wrapped present. "I got you and Stella a present. It isn't much as I haven't been getting a lot of pocket money, but-"

"Honey, it's the thought that counts, don't worry," Stella said, emerging at her husband's side just as Miles unwrapped the paper surrounding the gift to reveal a small box of chocolates.

"Hey, these are just fine, Helga," Miles chuckled. "These will be gone by the end of the week, believe me."

"Especially if you have anything to say about it," Stella quipped. "You'd live on chocolate if you had the chance."

"I would not!"

Stella laughed, before turning to Helga with a grateful smile. "Thank you, honey. They're perfect."

Helga shrugged. "They're just chocolates," she said. "And to be honest, I'm not the best gift giver at the best of times anyway."

"Why don't you tell Mr Hyuhn that," Arnold said, throwing her a tender smile. "I'm pretty sure he'd disagree."

 _Oh, come on Football Head, stop making me blush in front of everyone!_ Helga thought irritably as a faint blush rose in her cheeks.

"You just _had_ to bring that up, didn't you, Football Head?" Helga enquired, turning away in an effort to hide her rising blush. "And like I told you before, it was _nothing_. I was just trying to help out."

"That was more than just helping out, Helga," Arnold said gently, reaching out to place a hand on top of hers. "What you did that year was amazing and you know it."

"I just did what I thought was right," Helga insisted, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear in embarrassment. "And besides-" she continued, her irritation rising at the hard look within Arnold's eyes, "-can we just _drop_ it?!"

Arnold sighed. "Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up to placate her. "But it might be harder to hold Mr Hyuhn off," he admitted, with a jerk of his head towards the Vietnamese man over by the window talking to his daughter.

"I'm sure I can manage," Helga said. She glanced at Arnold nervously. "Look, Football Head-"

"You don't have to apologise, Helga," Arnold interrupted, giving her a small smile. "I'm the one who shouldn't have pushed you to talk about it. Don't worry about it."

Helga grinned. "You're starting to know me a little too well, Football Head."

"Speaking of getting to know each other more," Stella suddenly interjected, having waited for the right time to cut into the conversation. "Helga, Miles and I have a present for you as well." Reaching around to the table behind her, Stella emerged with a neatly wrapped box which she then presented to Helga. "I hope you like it."

"You didn't have to get me a present," Helga said as she took the present off the woman. "I mean, I'm not family."

"You might as well be, honey," Stella assured her gently, watching as Helga tore into the wrapping paper. "Which is why we thought _this_ -" she gestured to the half open present, "-might come in handy."

Tearing open the final bits of the wrapping paper, Helga's eyes widened in shock as a cell phone box came into her line of sight. Out of all things in the world Miles and Stella could have gotten her, they had gotten Helga one of the most expensive things that they could have possibly got her without going overboard. Sure, it wasn't the best device on the market, but it was still something that only a handful of kids in their _class_ had, let alone the _whole school_ had in their possession. And it was certainly something her parents wouldn't have bought for her in a hurry. To her, this gift was _amazing_.

"I hope it's alright," Stella said nervously, before Helga could speak. "Miles and I don't really know much about phones, but Arnold and Phoebe assured us that this would be the best one for you."

"It's… it's perfect," Helga assured her, her expression giving away her shock. "But why would you buy me something so expensive?" she enquired. "I mean, these things aren't exactly cheap."

Stella smiled. "Miles and I thought that it might be best for you to have one, considering how much time you and Arnold spend on the phone. And besides, it wasn't just us," the woman assured her. "This is from me, Miles, Phil _and_ Gertie -" she gestured to the four of them scattered around the room, "-pooling our money together to get you a present from all of us."

"Well… thanks," Helga said appreciatively, throwing the four of them a wide smile. "I love it. I mean, I've always wanted one of these, but my dad would never let me have one. For obvious reasons," she muttered. "Heck, he's probably not going to be happy _now_."

"That _might_ be true, Helga-" Miles admitted, throwing the girl a knowing grin, "-if we hadn't asked your parents' permission _before_ we went out and bought it."

Helga's eyes widened in surprise. "My parents _actually_ agreed to let me have a cell phone?" she asked. She snorted. "Man, do wonders never cease."

"Well, they agreed, but I don't think they were entirely happy about it," Stella admitted. "Well your father wasn't anyway. But I don't think he could have been bothered arguing about it after we said it would stop you holding up _their_ line."

" _And_ when we offered to pay the bill for the first few months," Miles put in with a shake of his head. "Your dad really knows how to work things, doesn't he?"

Helga snorted. "You have no idea," she said. "But are you sure you can afford this?" she asked, guilt bubbling up in her stomach at how much they had done for her. "I mean, you don't have full time jobs here yet."

"We will in the new year," Stella announced proudly, wrapping an arm around her husband. "I've taken a part time position at the hospital and Miles has accepted a job in in the Archaeology department at the university."

"Hey, that's awesome," Helga said cheerfully. "Congrats." She turned to Arnold with a grin. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

Arnold shrugged with a smile. "Must have forgotten."

"You didn't forget," Helga stated playfully. "You just wanted your parents to tell me."

"Maybe?"

"You're hopeless, Football Head."

"If that's what you think, Helga."

"Hey, keep that up and you're not getting _your_ present," Helga grinned, holding up another badly wrapped present in front of the boy. "I mean, I can always keep it."

"Well, that's mean," Arnold said, throwing a teasing smile in the girl's direction. "And here I thought you actually _liked_ me."

"Ha ha," Helga remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She threw the present into Arnold's waiting hands. "Here. Take it," she said, heaving a dejected sigh. "It isn't much, though. Not what you deserve anyway. I couldn't do much with the money I had."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Helga, don't worry," Arnold assured her as he unwrapped the gift, only to burst into a fit of laughter as the object came into sight.

It was a scarf. And not just any scarf, but one covered in tiny images of footballs that covered every inch of the material that it could physically cover. Dark green in appearance, mixed with dots of yellow/brown all over the piece of clothing, it would certainly tie in very well with the boy's usual ensemble.

"Is there something you're trying to tell me, Helga?" Arnold chuckled, holding up the scarf for the girl to see.

"Hey, you don't need me telling you you're a Football Head," Helga remarked, throwing the boy a tongue-in-cheek smile. "I just got a kick out of it, that's all!"

"Well, _I_ like it," Arnold said, reaching up to wrap the scarf around his neck proudly. "I mean, it does match my head, doesn't it?" he added playfully, with a glance down at the item.

"Tell me about it," Helga chuckled. "I can't tell where the scarf ends and your head begins!"

"Gee, thanks," Arnold commented, with a deadpan glance.

"Oh, come on, I'm just kidding!" Helga exclaimed, with a roll of her eyes. "Don't you have a sense of humour?"

"Yes, but I think _yours_ needs some work," Arnold said, with a shake of his head. "It's always hard to tell with you."

" _Sorry_ ," Helga drawled.

 _Sheesh, I was just kidding! Can't I ever catch a break around here?! I mean, that was so obviously a joke. Well, I thought it was anyway._

"Helga, don't worry about it, I _know_ it was a joke," Arnold assured her, reaching out to place a tender hand upon her shoulder. "Now anyway. I'm still getting used to your style that's all."

"Yeah… I guess I keep forgetting that," Helga chuckled. "I mean, Phoebe's used to it, but she's been my friend a lot longer than you have."

"It's alright, I'll get used to it," Arnold smiled. "But if you keep beating yourself up over it, I'm not giving you _your_ present. And something tells me you'll like it," he smiled, standing up, before leading them over to the Christmas tree, where one sole intricately wrapped package remained beneath the brightly lit ornament. Stooping down to pick the package up, Arnold then presented the gift to Helga, who had been eyeing off the package with wide eyed interest.

"Sheesh, what did you do, Football Head, go all out?" she asked, noting the elaborate wrapping. "Who knew you could wrap so well?"

"Actually, _I_ didn't wrap it," Arnold admitted, throwing her a sheepish smile as he held the package out towards her. "The place where I bought it from did. I just thought it might look nice if they did it since my wrapping skills are pretty bad."

"Hey, did you see mine?" Helga stated, with a nod towards the ripped paper beside them. "I'm not actually the queen of wrapping. Now-" she continued, turning the box over in her hands, "- where the heck am I supposed to start with this thing?"

Locating a ribbon on the opposite side of the box, Helga decided to start from there. Undoing the ribbon carefully, she then located the crease in the wrapping paper before carefully slitting it open with her nail and unwrapping it bit by bit to finally reveal a small velvet jewellery case.

"Wow, already buying me jewellery are we, Football Head?" Helga grinned, upon seeing the item. "Bit early, isn't it?"

Arnold smiled nervously. "Just open it, Helga."

"Alright, alright." And before anyone could say another word, Helga had swiftly opened the case to find a brand new shiny gold heart locket almost identical to her current one, complete with gold chain. Etched onto the edges of the gold frame were 'Arnold Shortman' and 'Helga Pataki' and in the centre, was a picture of the two of them, taken not long after their return from San Lorenzo, all smiles and happy to be home, with Arnold's arm draped nervously around Helga's shoulders.

"I remember you mentioning that your old one had a few dents in it after you threw it in the river," Arnold said nervously, causing Helga to glance up to her boyfriend in response. "And that you hadn't replaced the picture since you came home, so I thought that maybe you'd like a new one." Twiddling his thumbs nervously, he threw the girl a bashful smile. "I mean, I know it's a bit different from your old one, but… woah!"

Arnold was stunned into silence as Helga suddenly flung her arms around Arnold's neck and pulled him tightly towards her, all the while her heart beat wildly within her chest. Although slightly embarrassed, this present was one of the nicest things she could have received, having been unable to replace her old one since her return from South America.

"Thanks Arnold," she said quietly, pulling away with a large smile. "I love it."

Arnold's face lit up. "Really?" he asked, his tone relieved. "I was worried you weren't going to like it."

"Believe me, it's perfect," Helga admitted, heaving a heavy sigh. "And yet all I gave you was… that." She gestured to the scarf wrapped tightly around the boy's neck.

"Helga, this isn't a competition," Arnold chastised, throwing the girl a firm glance. "What you gave me was perfect. And I gave you that because I wanted you to have a new one that you could be proud of. That's all."

"Well, I _am_ proud of it," Helga admitted, glancing down at the locket in awe. "And hey-" she continued cheerfully, "-at least now the picture is of _both_ of us so I no longer look like a stalker!"

Arnold laughed. "You _weren't_ a stalker, Helga," he assured her. "But I'm glad you like it."

"I _love_ it," Helga corrected with a smile. "Well," she went on, reaching down her jacket to pull out the old locket, "I guess I don't need this one anymore." Pulling the chain up over her head, she swiftly placed the old one inside her bag before allowing Arnold to place the new one over her neck, which hung a lot shorter than the previous chain, causing it to be situated over her chest instead of her stomach, making a lot easier to carry around inconspicuously.

"I think it looks nice," Arnold noted, examining the locket with interest. "But then again, I'm not the one wearing it."

Helga rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Football Head," she said, just as Phil came ambling past.

"Oh ho!" he chuckled, with a quick glance up at the roof. "Look who's stumbled under the mistletoe! Cheeky kids!"

"What?!"

Craning their necks to glance at the roof above, the two kids flushed brightly as they noticed the string of mistletoe hanging slyly above their heads, just off from the Christmas tree. Neither of them had even noticed it was there until now.

"Oh dear, looks like someone didn't notice where they were standing!" Phil grinned. "Well, you know what that means! I'll just leave you two lovebirds alone, shall I?" he chuckled, giving the kids a mischievous wink, before scampering off without another word.

" _Grandpa_! You did that on purpose!"

"You're a sneak, Mr Shortman!"

"Why is there a piece of mistletoe on Thanksgiving?"

"Pookie, not now!"

"If only it _was_ Thanksgiving," Helga mumbled. Glancing up at Arnold, whose face had turned bright crimson, she chuckled nervously.

"Well… urgh…"

Before Helga could go any further, though, the girl suddenly found herself stiffening in surprise as Arnold's lips met hers in a feather light kiss causing her heart to stutter in response. Sure, they were classed as a couple now, but the pair had yet to share a kiss like the one in San Lorenzo since their return, and this move surprised Helga considerably. Not caring in the least, though, Helga wasted no time in responding, closing her eyes contentedly, before bringing her arms up to rest on the boy's shoulders as the kiss continued for several more moments, before both of them pulled away, their faces as bright as each other's, only for Helga to find a slightly dazed look crossing Arnold's face. She giggled.

 _I can't believe Arnold just kissed me! And even better, he looks like he enjoyed it! He looks so cute when he's dazed!_

"Hey, earth to Arnold!" Helga exclaimed, waving a hand in front of the boy's face. "You still in there?!"

"Huh?" Arnold shook his head to clear his thoughts, and seeing Helga's amused face glancing back at him, he grinned sheepishly. "Oh, sorry, Helga. What were you saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything!" Helga laughed. "You looked like you'd been hit over the head with a mallet!"

"I did?" Arnold asked, his blush becoming more prominent.

"Yes, you do," Helga said, throwing him a playful smile. "Man, are you sure you're the same guy who kissed me in San Lorenzo? Because I'm pretty sure _he_ wasn't that bold."

Arnold shrugged. "I like you," he said bashfully, looking up at Helga with a shy smile.

Helga blushed. "I… I like you, too," she replied quietly. "But sheesh, do we really have to get this mushy?!" she exclaimed, swiftly changing the topic. "I feel like I've been dropped in the middle of a romance novel! Yuck!"

Arnold smiled.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Helga."

"Merry Christmas, Arnold."

* * *

 _So, there you have it, that's Number One Priority finished! Once again, I'd like to give a big thank you to everyone who read it and who made me feel welcome within the fandom. You guys are amazing!_

 _So, as you can see, Bob ended up taking the deal from Miles and hopefully before long, Helga's living situation might improve. It won't happen overnight, but it will eventually get better which is what I hope would happen in a season 6 was ever produced. Helga is also starting to get into the point of the relationship with Arnold where she's beginning to feel more comfortable. But she'll always have that Helga rudeness no matter what! I also enjoyed writing the dynamic between Helga and Arnold's parents who I really hope would have a relationship like this. Also, to the few reviewers who wished to see Helga and Arnold have their snowball fight, I apologise that it wasn't in this chapter. Not only did it just not flow, but considering the decent snowfall and that Helga was still coughing from time to time I doubt Stella would have allowed it anyway! Rest assured, they would have had it eventually, though._

 _Also, you could see in here that Miles and Stella gave Helga a cell phone for Christmas. Now considering the possible time period it's set in, it would only be a very early flip phone most likely. Rhonda's phone was the only one seen in the movie, but considering she's rich, hers would probably be the only one with a more advanced model. I'm quite sure Arnold had a phone too in the movie, but I can't recall. Either way, I believe he would, though, because let's face it, he always had the best technology!_

 _So, before you go, once again,_ _ **DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_ _Just remember again, though, that_ _ **NO FLAMES WILL BE TOLERATED AND WILL AUTOMATICALLY BE DELETED,**_ _but_ _ **kind**_ _constructive criticism is accepted. Let me know if you enjoyed the story!_

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _ **A/N:**_ _For any of my Living with the Haddocks readers, rest assured, after I'm finished with this latest and last season of RTTE, I will return to the story and update as soon as I can!_


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